Miscarriage
by WriteOnForever
Summary: It's not like she wanted to be a mom, anyway. *Very sensitive subject matter* No longer a one-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Higher T for subject matter

Trigger: highly sensitive topic

Disclaimer: No.

Miscarriage

"Alright, you little punks, you're going to be fighting one another today. We've been working on techniques for a week now, so this shouldn't be a problem." I clasped my hands behind my back and marched around my students, a rag-tag slew of demigods ranging from six to twelve. Why Chiron stuck me with one of the youngest groups was beyond me. "Remember, camp rules indicate no intentional maiming or killing, and I'm not getting in trouble over you squirts, so keep it clean. Unless you really, really want to hurt someone, then don't get caught. Everyone, get on your armor, grab a sword, and get going. Any questions?"

Andrew's hand shot up.

"If you are asking me for a bathroom break I swear to Zeus-"

"I went before I came," he promised hastily, "but I gotta go again!"

I clapped my hand over my face. "Go. And anyone else who has to go, or might have to go, or even thinks about going, go right now. You have five minutes."

Half my class went sprinting out the door.

This was going to be a long lesson.

It was hectic enough, kids trying to find armor that fit and a sword that was the right weight, and of course I had to help them because gods forbid they did anything for themselves. And lucky me got to do it _twice_ for the rugrats that came back from the bathroom. I deserved a medal for not drop-kicking any of them.

Things finally calmed down, and I was reminded that maybe this wasn't the worst class in the world. They were growing into warriors-small, poorly-coordinated warriors, but warriors nonetheless. And every time they won a match, they'd look at me with the biggest smile on their faces, searching for my approval. At the risks of tears, which I could _not _deal with, I'd give it in the form of a thumbs-ups.

The threat of crying was the only reason I bothered to acknowledge their victories. Seriously. It's not like I really cared or anything, and anyone who says otherwise will get an electric spear shoved up their ass.

The lesson was wrapping up when Percy walked in. Immediately, my students stopped fighting and glared at him. I may or may not have convinced them that he had soaked me with toilet water after I kicked his butt in a sparring match. Hey, it's not my fault they believe everything I tell them.

He rolled his eyes. "You brain-washed them."

I shrugged. "Whatever. Don't you have a class to be teaching?"

"Just finished. I came by to see if you wanted to spar." He gestured to the kids. "You know, as a teaching technique."

"Clarisse'll kick your butt!" Maggie jeered, her little hands planted on her hips. Man, I hoped she turned out to be my sister.

"Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaah," the others added, sticking out their tongues.

Percy raised on eyebrow at me, as if to say, _Really?_ I just shrugged again and picked a sword. "You have the whole camp worshipping you, let me have these guys."

A small smile crossed his face. "You like them, don't you?"

I snorted and commanded, "C'mon, Prissy, you came to fight, so let's fight."

He quickly pulled on his armor and took Riptide out of his pocket; the match was on.

As much as I hate to admit it, we're pretty equally matched when it comes to sword-fighting, and there was no way he'd give me an easy win just because these were my students. Almost ten minutes in, no one had an upper hand. That was when his eyes widened and barely deflected my attack. "Clarisse, you're bleeding."

"Nice try."

He dodged my next blow. "No, really, look down. I think...I think you have..."

I followed his eyes. Blood was seeping through the inner thighs of my cargo pants.

Son of a bitch.

Suddenly motivated, I brought a couple of rapid, well-aimed swings against him, and he fell to the ground. Amidst the cheering of my tiny terrors, whom I thankfully had my back to, I said loudly, "Good practice. Hit the showers," and got the Hades out of there.

Because of the craziness of camp life, my period had never been regular. Months at a time would pass before I got it again, which was the case now. Cursing profusely under my breath, I headed to the bathroom.

With my adrenaline fading, I felt an onslaught of painful cramps, worse than I ever experienced before. Fantastic. The flow of blood, too, was the heaviest I'd ever had. I groaned and leaned my head against the bathroom stall. This was absolutely humiliating. Every time I tried to stand, the cramps flared and kept me rooted in my spot.

_This is ridiculous_, I thought. _You are Clarisse, Drakon Slayer. Suck it up, get off your ass, and move on._

My pep talk worked, and I managed to drag myself to my cabin. Everyone else was still out, thank gods, so, after turning the place upside-down looking for a fricking pad, I crawled into my bed and stripped my blood-soaked garments off my body. Just as I will slipping on something clean, another wave of horrific throbbing gripped me. A Hades of a lot more than blood started streaming down my legs.

This was bad. This was bad in so many ways. I had no idea what was happening, but those clumps of I don't even _know _what told me this was a lot worse than a normal period.

I draped the covers over me and waited for one of my siblings, forcing myself to take deep breaths to keep from losing my mind.

Mark was barely one foot in the room when I barked, "Get Chiron! Now!"

He knew better than to question me.

When he and Chiron returned, I pointed at the door. "Mark, get out. And keep out everyone else, too."

"This must be serious," Chiron said quietly, watching the door close.

"Yeah." I looked away, reconsidering this. "Um, actually, I think I'd rather have an Apollo camper. A female one."

"Ah. It's personal."

"Something like that."

"Clarisse, do you trust me?"

"Well, yeah, but-" I clenched my teeth to counter the sudden pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Cramps," I grunted. "But they're not normal."

He nodded solemnly. "You could be having an ovarian cyst."

"I don't think that's it. There's something wrong. The blood's darker than usual, almost brown, and there are these...these clumps. That's never happened."

"Clumps," he repeated. There was a sadness that wasn't there before. "When was the last time you had your period?"

"Uh, over three months ago."

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating. His hand came to rest on my forehead. "Clarisse, my dear, I think...I think you are having a miscarriage. I'm so sorry."

I stared at him in disbelief. That couldn't be right. "No, Chiron, no way. I wasn't pregnant."

"You and Chris aren't sexually active?"

"Oh, we are. Very active. But he always, _always _wears a condom. I won't let him near me if he's not."

"Could one have broken?"

I thought back to an incident, one that happened just a week after my last period. "Okay, that happened_ once _and we didn't even know until afterwards. But, seriously, no. I'm not having a miscarriage."

"It would be best if I took you to the Big House," he said softly, as though I hadn't spoken. "There's a shower; the warm water will help with the cramps."

Now I was pissed. "Well, if you want me to go, let me get dressed first."

He didn't reprimand me, just thoughtfully walked outside.

"No idea what he's talking about," I grumbled angrily, tugging on underwear and my loosest pair of sweats. "I am _not _having a fricking miscarriage. That's just stupid."

I jumped to my feet and headed out the door. Chiron only glanced at me before returning inside and pulling back the blanket, inspecting what looked like a massacre on my sheets. His shoulders sagged, remained that way when he came to my side. "Clarisse," he whispered gently, "you had a miscarriage. Those clumps were the placenta."

"You're wrong," I growled, taking a step back.

"I have seen this before," he continued. "I'm sorry."

"No," I protested, but it didn't sound so tough with my knees buckling under my weight.

He caught me before I fell. "We will talk more, at the Big House. You can walk?"

"Of course," I snarled.

I ended up leaning on him for support. He didn't say a word about it.

Mr. D watched as we entered; him and Chiron seemed to have a silent conversation, and the god, exaggerating a yawn, left the building.

"The shower is upstairs, on the left," Chiron said in that understanding, sympathetic voice of his. I hated that voice. "I'll have someone bring clean clothes. You can stay in there as long as you need to."

"'Kay."

His hand caught my wrist. "Do you want to tell Chris?"

"He doesn't have to know."

"Clarisse, this involves him, too."

"Then you tell him." I jerked away and stormed up the stairs.

In the bathroom, I blasted the hot water and sat down in the shower, unable to even stand. Blood stained the tub red. There were more clu...placenta. Placenta. From a baby. Mine and Chris's.

I rested my head on the wall, reality sinking in. I'd been pregnant. There had been a _baby_ inside of me. I would've been a mom, Chris would have been a dad, we would have been a _family_.

I watched that future dribble down the drain.

_You're only twenty. You weren't ready for a kid, anyway. Seriously, you want to be weighed down by that? Besides, you'd be a horrible mom. You're not compassionate, or warm, or nice. You don't even like hugs. You can't sing, or cook, and your smile is more of a sneer than anything. This is a good thing. This is a good thing._

That phrase repeated itself over and over again, until the water had turned cold and the blood had lightened slightly and the cramps had subsided. Just as I turned the faucet off and wrapped myself in a towel, there was a knock at the door.

"Clean clothes," I muttered, reaching for the knob. "Thank gods."

Chris was standing on the other side. I slammed the door in his face.

"Clarisse, please," he pleaded. "You have to talk about it."

"About what?"

"Don't do this, please."

"I'm not talking. I'm fine." I cracked up the door, just enough for my hand to slip through. "Now give me my clothes."

He sighed but did as I asked. As I was dressing, I refused to look in the mirror. When I stepped outside, I refused to look at him.

"Reese, please." Chris rested his hands on my shoulders. I didn't have the energy to shake him off. "We have to talk?"

"About what? The baby we're not having?"

He winced. "Clarisse-"

"What? That's all there is to talk about. I was pregnant, now I'm not. End of discussion." I started for the stairs. "I have a schedule to get back to."

"You're staying here." His arms wrapped tightly around my waist. "Chiron's orders. It'll be at least a week until the bleeding and cramps completely stop, and until then, you have to relax."

"I'm cabin leader! I can't take a week off."

"I'll talk to Mark, tell him you had an emergency. He can handle your siblings." His fingers entwined tightly with mine. "But _you_ need to worry about you."

"This is fricking stupid," I growled.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes. Yes, I will laze around for the next seven days when there is absolutely nothing wrong with me."

"Good." He kissed my cheek. "I have to go to dinner. What do you want me to bring you back?"

"Nothing." After a moment, I added more quietly, "Give my whole plate to the gods. As an offering."

As though they hadn't already taken enough.

Chris nodded and kissed me again, then offered his arm. Even though I didn't need it, I allowed him to help me downstairs and toward a back room.

"I'll be back right after dinner," he promised as I sat down on the couch. Brushing hair from my eyes, he tenderly tucked the blanket around me. "I'll see you."

"Bye."

No sooner had he left did Chiron come in. "Hello, my dear."

"Hi."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine."

"You can talk to me, Clarisse."

"I know. But I don't want to talk. I'm fine, really." I rolled over and buried my face in a pillow. "Really, I am. I'm just tired, okay?"

"Okay." He didn't sound convinced, but he didn't press the issue. "Mr. D is handling dinner tonight, so I'll be here if you need me."

"Thanks."

Even after the clop-clop-clop told me he was gone, I stayed with my face pressed against the pillow. The pattern twisted and danced before my eyes; forms began to appear. Bottles. Teddy bears. Rattles. Skull and crossbones. Merging and colliding, disappearing and reappearing, and no matter how much I blinked, they wouldn't stop.

"Clarisse?"

I turned, just enough to get a glimpse of my boyfriend. "You're back early."

"I ate quickly." He took a seat on the edge. "How are you?"

"Fine." I inched over a little. "You can lay down, you know."

He obeyed, body pressed close to mine, head on my shoulder. "You really don't want to talk, do you?"

"No."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just...just stay with me."

"Of course," he murmured.

We sat in silence for the longest time, until exhaustion finally took its toll and I fell asleep. In my dream, there were streaks of pink and blue, quiet giggles. All too soon, the colors twisted into red and dripped into a puddle; the giggles turned to screams.

I awoke with my heart in my throat and shudders running through my body. A glance at Chris confirmed he was still asleep, so I untangled myself from him and snuck outside to sit on the steps. Tilting my head, I stared at the night sky. There were stars all over, glimmering and shining, but all I could see was black.

"Is this because I was so mean?" I asked quietly. "Because I was the bully? Or because I didn't want my cabin fighting in the war?" My voice hitched. "Is this punishment? Or are you just bored up there? Or, or is this because of all the times I complained about my students? Because I didn't mean it." Tears blurred my vision. "I don't hate them. I, I even kind of like them. They're...they're good kids. And they look up to me; they _like _me. I'm okay with them. Damn it, I'm _good _with them." I rested my head on my knees, tried to swallow back the pain, but there was too much, and I couldn't keep myself from crying.

Strong arms wrapped around me. "It's okay, Clarisse," Chris murmured.

"No, it's not," I protested weakly. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"It's my fault; this is my fault."

"This is not your fault," he insisted. "You didn't cause this to happen."

"I did! I must have!"

He grip tightened. "No, you didn't. You did nothing wrong."

"I didn't even know I was pregnant; how could I not know?"

"You had no symptoms. You don't look pregnant. What, were you supposed to be psychic?"

"I should have known there was a baby inside of me! And I didn't, so I lost him!"

I don't know why I said _him_, but it felt right.

"Clarisse, you can't believe that. This isn't because of divine intervention, or karma, or anything like that. It just happened. This is not your fault."

"We would have had a baby together," I whispered. "And now we're not. So who's fault is it?"

"No one's."

"Then why does it feel like it's mine?"

He didn't respond, just hugged me to his chest while I cried, mourning what I didn't even I know I wanted until it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So yes, I am continuing this (give a special thanks to springbreakers for being my final push). However, updates will be sporadic: freshman engineering student here, people. I'll try, really, really hard, to update every Saturday or Sunday, and expect a bunch during breaks.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own this series. Duh.

Chapter 2

I awoke groggily the next morning, vision blurred by congealed tears and mind struggling to recall how I had returned to the couch. Chris's arms were no longer around me, and as I blinked hard in an attempt to improve my sight, I failed to see him.

"You're awake."

My head spun toward the sound of Chiron's voice. He approached, a glass in his hand. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. Fine." I was staring past him, still searching for my boyfriend. "Just fine."

Years of dealing with teenagers must have led to hyper-awareness because he murmured gently, "Chris had to get to his schedule. He didn't want to wake you, but he did leave a note. It's on the table. But before that..." He handed the glass to me. "Nectar. To help with the cramps."

"Will it stop the bleeding?"

A small sigh, one that somehow contained so much sadness. "I'm afraid, my dear, that will sort itself out on its own."

"Of course it will," I grumbled in annoyance, taking a sip. What usually tasted of Devil Food Cake was now chalk on my tongue. "Can I go back to my schedule, too? Please, Chiron, I can't just stay here. I'll go crazy."

"Clarisse, you need time to heal."

"I'm fine. Seriously."

"No. You are to stay here until the end of the week. That is an order."

"But-"

"An order."

"So what, you can order me back to my schedule when Chris is on his deathbed but keep me locked up in here like a fricking invalid because my body's spitting out bloody clumps? Whoa, that makes so much sense."

Another sigh, as though I hadn't just bitten his head off. Gods, I wished he would get mad at me; that had to be so much better than this sympathy, the way he looked at me as though I was weak and fragile and about to shatter. I was a daughter of Ares, cabin leader, the Drakon Slayer, and I did _not _need anyone's pity.

"I'm fine," I muttered. "I'm just fine, alright?"

"Be that as it may, I want you to rest. You need to rest. One week, that's all."

"Whatever."

A few moments of silence, broken by him saying, "Chris will return between his classes. If you need anything, come get me."

"Oh, my bed rest is lifted for that? How generous."

He didn't even try to respond to that one.

Once he was gone, I reached for the note, the lined piece of paper folded over and over and over.

_Clarisse,_

_ I wanted to say goodbye this morning, but you seemed really peaceful, and I figured you deserved to sleep in. I hope you're feeling better today and aren't too angry that you're stuck at the Big House. Mark knows how to lead your cabin, so don't worry about that. Just focus on being okay._

_ Love,_

_ Chris_

I tried to smile. It hurt too much.

Tucking the note in my pocket, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the wall, wondering what I was supposed to do for the rest of the day and the whole gods-damned week.

"Clarisse?"

"Why are you here?" I demanded of Mark, standing in the doorway. "You're second-in-command!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he replied, voice neutral. We were only three months apart in age and comparable in strength and weaponry, so our relationship was one of constant back-and-forth banter and rough-housing. He normally would have shot some sort of combat my way. This quiet response was something I wasn't expecting, something I didn't want.

"You want to answer my question? You have a cabin to lead!"

"They're at wrestling. You think they need my supervision right now?" Shifting uncomfortably, he continued, "I came to check on you. Yesterday...yesterday was weird. I never saw you like that before. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Bull. If it was nothing, you wouldn't have called Chiron, you wouldn't be here, and Chris wouldn't be walking around camp in a fricking daze. So don't treat me like I'm stupid, Clarisse. I'm your brother, and if something's wrong, I have a right to know."

I snorted and kicked my legs up onto the table.

"Two can play at this game." Mark dropped beside me and mimicked my movements. "And it's really a shame, you know, that we'll be changing classes soon and no one's going to be there to keep Cabin Five in order. I would've left Sherman in charge, but I thought I'd be back right away. Now, seems I'm gonna be here for a while. We already get enough crap from the others, you think we'd want to at least walk together like an organized group, not like, what did Drew call us again? Gutter rats?"

My fingers clenched into a fist. He knew how to hit me where it hurt.

"You really want to know? I miscarried."

Silence. Not something associated with my siblings.

"You...you what?"

"Miscarried," I repeated.

"Oh." His hand lingered above my shoulder before coming down awkwardly. I flinched at the contact and pulled away. "I...Clarisse...I'm sorry. You and Chris were trying?"

"Yeah, we totally wanted to be parents at twenty-years-old. Yup, life goal right there." I rolled my eyes. "Of course we weren't trying. Gods, Mark, you're so dense. It was a mistake."

_And maybe that's why you lost him because you just called your baby a _mistake.

"Are...are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll be bleeding for a week, which is why I need to stay here. Chiron thinks I'm going to die or something, I don't even know."

"I didn't mean that way." He was speaking in as close to a whisper as he could manage. "I meant...like...okay okay. Psychologically."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Now go do the one job I left you with."

"Clarisse-"

"_Go_. Or I'll kick your ass the second I'm back."

Reluctantly, he obeyed. Back in the doorway, he asked, "Should I tell the cabin? They're worried."

I thought that over. "Yeah. Tell them." More forcefully, I added, "Handle the situation."

And from the slow nod he gave me, I knew he understood. Because there was no way, no way in Hades, I could handle trying to talk to them.

With him gone, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to keep myself controlled. The sound of footsteps snapped me to reality, and I barked, "Damn it, Mark, I said go back to the cabin!"

"Uh, Clarisse?"

Definitely not Mark.

"What do you want, Prissy?" I turned my best glare his way. Today was not a day I wanted company.

"I came to check on you. I was worried."

"Well, I'm alive and kicking. And why are you worried about me? After I creamed you yesterday, I'd figured you'd still be nursing your wounds."

"I bounce back pretty well." He leaned down and lifted up the leg of his pants. A cut glazed with blood was on his shin. "But your little terrors were not pleased that I was your replacement. Maggie did this. With a knife. I don't even know where she got a knife!"

"Wow, Jackson, now you're getting beat up by seven-year-olds. I thought you couldn't sink any lower."

"I don't know what you did, but they only listen to you. No one would put on their armor, Kevin knocked the sword rack over, and when I told them to calm down, they laughed. Looked at me and laughed."

"You should me used to that by now."

He scowled. I smirked in response.

"Okay, well, anyway, I went to get Annabeth-"

"That's embarrassing."

"They didn't listen to her, either! Not even Christine, and she's a daughter of Athena."

"I'll be sure to remind Princess of that later."

"Seriously, Clarisse, those kids love you."

I suddenly felt cold, and my throat started burning, and this story wasn't nearly as entertaining anymore. "No they don't."

"Yeah, they do. All they kept saying was that they wanted you back."

"'Cause you suck at being a teacher."

"No. Because you get them. And admit it, you really do like them."

I swallowed hard, but the pain wouldn't stop. Snarky responses died in their embryonic stages.

"Clarisse? Clarisse, are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine," I grumbled. "Really. So what else happened?"

"Chiron had to wrangle them. Most of them. Maggie took off...after she kicked him."

"She _kicked_ him?"

"Yeah. It didn't hurt him, I don't think. But it definitely shocked him."

"Dad better claim her soon."

"You think she's one of yours?"

"Please. You think she fits anywhere else?"

"No, not really." He finally sat down, claiming the arm of the couch. "They want to see you."

"What?"

"Your students. They want to see you."

"Did you take a poll?"

"Actually, yeah. Well, not me. The kids did. After we got them to stop, you know, freaking out. Andrew was like, 'I want Clarisse!' and then everyone started saying the same thing." A thoughtful look was sent my way; I became fascinated with red smudges beneath my nails. "Would it be okay if they came to visit?"

"You think you could handle bringing them?"

"They'll behave if they know they're coming for you. It would be right after dinner." He titled his head. "So would you be okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. That would be fine."

"Alright." Standing, he made a move to leave but paused. "Really, Clarisse, are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_," I growled. "Jeez, a little blood and everyone loses their gods-damned minds."

Hands raised in a show of innocence, he continued his retreat. "Okay, okay, sorry. I'll see you later."

I lay down and covered my face with a pillow. "People avoid me like the plague when I'm healthy but when I'm sick, I have a fricking entourage," I muttered to myself.

Sleep hadn't been part of the plan, but it came anyway. My students were around me, talking and shouting and trying to jump on me, and I was trying to be strict but it was hard because they seemed so happy to see me and then they were deteriorating, flesh dripping off their bones and forming a puddle at me feet and they were screaming and I was screaming but there was nothing I could do, nothing at all, I was helpless and I hated being helpless but I was and everything was out of my control and...

"Clarisse! Clarisse, get up!"

I sat straight up, my heart drumming so hard that my chest actually ached. Chris was staring at me, hands clinging to my wrists like he was afraid he would lose me. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything is fine."

"You were screaming. That is not fine. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I repeated, twisting within his grasp. "It was just a nightmare."

"About what?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Clarisse, you can talk to me. Please."

"If there was anything to talk about, I would."

He cupped my chin gently, thumb brushing away a renegade tear. "Tell me," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "Please, Reese, I want to help you."

"There's nothing you can do. I'm _fine_. Everything is just _fine_. Fine, fine, fine, fine, _fine_."

Because I was too strong to be acting this way and because I had worked too hard to rise to the ranks of cabin leader and because I had no right to be upset when I hadn't even planned on being a mother and because I knew that no amount of crying or dwelling or bargaining would bring back my child.

"This wasn't your fault," he murmured into my hair. "None of this was your fault. You can't do this to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything to myself! It was a fricking nightmare, that's all! And do you really think I still care about having a miscarriage? Because I don't. I have too much going on right now to be bothered with a kid. They're just, just little screaming breakable blobs who keep you awake all night." My voice hitched. "And they smell, and throw up, and crap on everything, and, and..."

_Grow up to call you _Mom _and say _I love you_ and follow in your footsteps and look up to you and give you hugs even though you don't deserves them._

"You can feel sad, Clarisse." He was crushing me to his chest. "You're allowed to feel sad about this. You lost a baby."

"I'm a warrior. Warriors don't act like this."

"But you're also human."

I just shook my head, barely registering the circles he was rubbing on my back, hating myself for acting this way and for thinking these thoughts and for agreeing to let my students come when I couldn't even bear the idea of facing them.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks to all our men and women who serve our country!

Disclaimer: I am getting no money from this. I do not own this. Trust me. (Here's looking at you, government.)

Chapter 3

For the hero of Olympus, Percy was really incompetent.

Before I saw my students, I could hear them shouting. Rising from my position on the couch, I walked toward the window and saw them sprinting towards the Big House, pushing and shoving each other, all completely oblivious to Percy frantically waving his hands and trying to control them. _Handle them_ my ass.

"Don't let a son of Poseidon take on a job meant for a daughter of Ares," I murmured to myself as the front door slammed down the hall, followed by a squeaky voice yelling, "CLARISSE!"

"Take a left, come straight," I advised.

Maggie was leading the first pack that burst into the room, all clamoring around me and trying to get my attention at once. The next wave rushed in soon after, with Percy trailing behind, a defeated expression on his face.

I just shook my head and muttered, "Amateur," before barking, "Warriors!"

They immediately fell silent.

"What are you doing, coming before your commander in such a manner?" I continued. "Line up, right now, shortest to tallest! Let's hustle people!"

It was twenty seconds of disorder, kids scrambling and bumping into each other, but they fulfilled the task well enough, even going to the extra length of standing back-straight, eyes ahead without the given instruction.

"Good," I approved, flashing a grin at Percy, staring at my perfectly-trained squadron in disbelief. Taking a seat, I permitted, "At ease."

Form broken, they surged forward in an attempt to claim a spot next to me. Somehow, all fifteen kids managed to fit on the couch.

"How come you weren't our teacher?" Maggie whined. An accusing finger was pointed at Percy. "He had to do it! And he was awful."

"What?" he squawked indignantly. "I would have been a great teacher if any of you had bothered listening to me!"

"Blah blah blah," Maggie jeered.

"Blah blah blah," the others repeated, matching her tone.

My grin widened as Percy's left eye twitched slightly. Still, it was my duty as their instructor to keep them somewhat contained, so I said, "Alright, punks, I want you on your best behavior for the rest of the week. Just because I'm out of commission doesn't mean you get a break. Listen to him, alright? No matter how much you don't want to, no matter how much it annoys you, listen to him. Beyond the dopey exterior, he's a relatively decent swordsman. And for the next six days, he's going to be your teacher."

"But why?" Andrew asked quietly. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Promise. Chiron's just overreacting, that's all."

"So you're okay?"

"Of course she's okay!" Maggie huffed defensively. "She's Clarisse, Drakon Slayer!"

"Exactly," I agreed. "So don't be worrying about me. Focus on your techniques and your moves. I will be testing you when I get back; and by testing, I mean you'll be going against _me_. And don't expect it to be easy, either, just because you're newbies. Monsters won't be easy on you. Understand?"

"Understand."

"Understand?" I repeated, raising my voice.

"Understand!" they shouted in unison.

"That's what I like to hear."

I felt a tug on my sleeve. Terry, a ten-year-old daughter of Aphrodite, asked quietly, "But what if we're not good at fighting?"

"Then I guess you're gonna die," Maggie shot back.

A few years back, I would have admired that quick of a response. Now, after the Second Titan War, it made me cringe.

"Whoa, whoa, alright, slow your roll there," I protested, resting a hand on Maggie's head while reaching around to do the same for Terry. "Listen up. All of you. This is an important lesson, probably the most important you're ever going to hear. Being good at fighting isn't the end-all be-all. Because people who aren't good at that are good at other things. My best friend was a daughter of Aphrodite, and she could barely even hold a sword.."

"Really?" Maggie questioned.

"Really. Silena Beauregard. Dodged combat and sword practice and everything else. But you know what she could do? She could make friends with anyone, make peace with any situation. And she was the single most courageous person I ever met. So don't attack one another because when it all boils down, we're family. A horribly, horribly dysfunctional family that fights a lot and annoys each other, but still, we have to have each other's backs. It's us vs. the monster, not each other. Alright?"

"Alright," came the unanimous response.

"Good."

"Clarisse?" Andrew had wormed his way to the front of the pack. "When, when you said that, that, that people who can't fight real good can do other stuff? Does, does drawing count as other stuff?"

"'Course it does," I murmured softly.

A small smile creased his face. "Okay."

"Now, enough mushy-gushy stuff. I'm still your instructor, so I want to see how much you actually know. I say the technique, you shout out the move; I say an attack strategy, tell me when and when not to use it. Got it?"

"Got it!"

I drilled them for close to an hour, and they didn't miss one; I felt a ridiculous amount of pride over this. With no more questions, they took that as a sign to say whatever came to mind. The barely-coherent drabbles were surprisingly entertaining to listen to, and when Percy announced that they should leave for the campfire, I was just as disappointed as the kids.

"Can we come tomorrow?" Maggie asked.

"Pretty please?" added Terry, batting her eyelashes.

"If I get a good report from Percy, then yes. And that means a good report for _all _of you." I turned to Maggie for emphasis. She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest but nodded anyway. "No slacking off. Pretend I'm there. And remember, I have eyes all around this camp. So march on out!"

They leapt to their feet and reassembled into a line, strode out of the room without one backwards glance. Percy sent me a final look of disbelief before bringing up the rear.

At least, that's what I thought. No sooner was I lying down on the couch did Andrew timidly sneak back in. "Clarisse?"

"What's up?"

He kicked at the floor. "I, I made you something," he murmured, awkwardly taking a piece of paper from his pocket. "In arts and crafts. I really missed you."

Carefully, I unfolded it. In colored pencil, drawn extremely well for a child his age, was a picture of me, my sword raised and my foot crushing the neck of a dragon. In bright red, he had written _To the best teacher ever._

My throat felt real tight-gods, I was getting sick of that feeling-but I managed to say, "Thanks, Andrew."

He shifted from one foot to another, then hastily threw his arms around my neck. "I hope you're okay," he whispered.

I blinked in surprise. Hugs had never been my thing, the only exception being Chris. Still, I found myself returning it, wondering why it felt so natural to do so and why it made my stomach hurt so badly.

Forcing composition, I released him and said, "Now get back to the group. That's an order, warrior."

He saluted me and took off in a run, leaving me rooted in my seat and staring at the picture clenched tightly in my grasp. The pain in my gut had subsided to numbness, a feeling that soon spread throughout my entire body.

"Clarisse?"

I snapped out of my stupor and met Chris's eyes, roving over my face and trying to read me. "Why aren't you at the campfire?"

"You really think I'd go without you?" he asked, taking a place beside me and slinging his arm around my shoulders.

"Just because I'm laid up here doesn't mean you shouldn't be allowed to have fun."

"If you're not there with me, it isn't any fun." He planted a kiss on my forehead.

"You're such a sap," I muttered, resting my head on his chest.

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" His fingers reached for the paper in my hands but stopped short. "What's that?"

"Andrew gave it to me," I explained, holding it up so he could get a better look.

"Kid has talent." He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. "How were they?"

"Good. It was nice seeing them." I snorted quietly. "The look on Percy's face when I could get them all under control was priceless."

"I would bet." Tilting his head slightly, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. It was just..." There was no way to articulate what was going on with me; I could barely even understand it. These kids were just my students, but the way they looked up to me and acted around me and _missed _me...it made me imagine the blood and placenta dripping down the drain, out of my grasp, and leaving me empty.

"I know," he murmured, lips to my ear. "I know it still hurts, Reese, and it's okay to still be hurting. But it'll get better, I promise. We'll get through this."

"Thank you," I managed. "I..."

The rest of my sentence faltered as my mind starting putting pieces together. Chiron murmuring, "Clarisse, this involves him, too," and Mark saying, "Chris wouldn't be walking around camp in a fricking daze," and him, right now, with, "_We'll _get though this."

This was Chris's baby, just as much as it was mine. And even though I _knew _that on a basic, biological level, the meaning hadn't truly sunk in until right now. He lost his chance of being a father, like I lost my chance of being a mother. But he'd never had a say in it. It was my fault. I'd stolen that from him.

"Reese, Reese, what's wrong?" He gave my shoulders a slight shake. "What's wrong?"

"Did you want to be a dad?"

"What? Clarisse-"

"Did you want to be a dad?" I repeated, a little louder. "Answer me."

"I want to have a family with you," he murmured. "There's no doubt about that."

"That wasn't my question," I growled. "And you know it."

"It's not a fair question."

"Why not? It's a simple enough yes or no. Would you have wanted to be a dad or not?"

"Don't do this, Clarisse. Please."

"Do what?" I demanded, pulling from his grasp and getting to my feet. "I'm asking a fricking question!"

"Because I know what you're trying to do," he whispered, voice barely audible. "You want me to say yes. You want me to say yes so you'll have a whole other reason to feel bad about yourself." He stood and wrapped his arms around me. "But you can't do this, Clarisse. Because you did nothing wrong."

"Our child is dead."

"You didn't cause that," he protested. "Stuff like this, sometimes it just happens. Women miscarry and have stillborns; it just happens. It sucks and it's awful and it hurts, but it's not your fault."

"This was your kid, too." I could barely even say it, it hurt so badly. "Chris, I'm sorry."

"Stop it," he pleaded. "Please, Clarisse, stop this. Blaming yourself isn't the answer. You've done nothing wrong." His lips brushed my cheek. "I hate seeing you this way. Please, stop."

"We would have been a family."

"I know, Reese. But we can still be a family. We have time to have kids; we have our whole lives. This wasn't our one and only change, so please don't see it that way." Voice dropping, he continued, "If you wanted, we could try again. When you're feeling better."

I shifted my head from his chest to his face. "Are you just saying that to make me happy?"

"No. I love you, Clarisse, and I would love to start a family with you. So whenever you're ready, whenever you're comfortable, we can try again. Okay?"

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me; all the more reason to have lots of sex with you."

I punched him hard in the side, earning a strangled grunt of pain. "Just because I'm bed-ridden doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He kissed me on the lips. "But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to say that."

Our baby conversation ended there; we spent the rest of the night talking about anything else, and when I fell asleep, I was convinced it would be dreamless.

_"Mom!"_

_ A little boy came running my way. I dropped to my knees to catch him._

_ "Can we go get ice cream, Mom?" he asked, deep chocolate eyes-his father's eyes-widening into a puppy dog look._

_ "I'm immune to that look, you know."_

_ "Then how come I heard you telling Dad that you can never say no when I use it?"_

_ I ruffled his hair. "You're a little punk, you know that?" Standing, I situated him in my arms. "Alright, let's go."_

_ He cheered and tightened his grip. "Thanks, Mom! You're the best!"_

_ "Yeah, I know. So what kind of ice cream do you want?"_

_ No answer. My arms suddenly felt sticky._

_ I glanced down. He was no longer a boy but a bloody lump, tattered pieces of skin falling from him. In a panic, I let him fall, watched as he stained the grass red. _

A scream burned in my throat but stayed there when I awoke, breath coming in broken huffs and vision blurred by tears. Easing from Chris's grasp, I shakily got to my feet and headed to my cabin, bare feet catching on twigs but the pain not even registering. With the grace of an expert, I snuck inside and tip-toed past my sleeping siblings, snagged my envelope of emergency money, and returned to the woods, breaking through the boundary and heading to the closest drug store.

I wasn't even back to the Big House before I was swallowing down the first birth control pill.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Would I be in college if I owned these books? Uh, no.

Chapter 4

I stayed up for the rest of the night.

It's not like I wanted to; really, I would have given anything for some sleep. But the bitterness of the pill lingered on my tongue and the plastic packaging hidden in my sweatshirt pocket crinkled degradingly and bloodied drops hid behind my eyelids every time I blinked and Chris's heartbeat reminded me of the one that I had lost. So I ended up watching the ceiling, angry that all the brute strength and weaponry knowledge were useless in the situation, that there wasn't just some monster that I could kill.

_Haven't you done enough killing?_

When morning rolled around, sunlight oozing through the blinds, Chris slowly awakened; I could tell, just from the slight movement of his body. I snapped my eyes shut, kept them closed despite the onslaught of red.

"Clarisse?" he barely whispered.

When I gave no response, he carefully eased himself away from me, providing a pillow in place of his chest. He kissed my forehead. "See you later," he promised.

Only when I was convinced he had gone did I sit up, head so heavy I had to rest it on my hand. After a moment, I took out the box of birth control and stared at it.

No chance of a miscarriage.

No chance of a baby.

So much for having a family.

Suddenly furious, I threw it across the room and took some sick satisfaction from the way it crashed against the wall.

"Tough morning, I presume."

My head snapped toward the voice. Mr. D was standing in the doorway, watching me with a neutral expression on his face.

"Mr. D," I said stupidly, heat burning across my cheeks. "I, I didn't know you were here."

"I could have guessed that much." He glanced between the box and me before tilting his head and quietly saying, "The last few days have been difficult for you."

It should have been a question, but he phrased it like a statement.

With a shrug, I returned, "I can handle it."

"This is not something you simply handle, Clarisse. It is far bigger than that."

"Not for me."

"Really? From the prayer you sent two nights ago, I wouldn't have gotten that."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "How...?"

A dismissive wave of his hand. "I am a god, you know. Which means I'm just as capable of receiving prayers as any of the others. Especially ones without addresses. You see, for all of Olympus's flaws, it has a fully-functioning delivery system when it comes to prayers. If a god or goddess is requested, they'll get the plea. Whether they answer it or not is a completely different story. Anyway, without a specified recipient, prayers are funneled to the closest god in the proximity. And in your case, that was me."

"So you heard everything I said?"

"Every last word. And, judging from your look of horror and mortification, I was probably right on my first instinct of not addressing you on the matter. However, after your little...adventure last night, I figured staying quiet was not ideal, either."

"You saw me?"

"You're not the only one who can get insomnia, you know. And as much as I hate this infernal place, the fresh air is quite relaxing. Though I doubt you could tell that from the way you were sprinting."

I just gnawed on my lower lip and glared at the floor.

"Well, I can see you're in no mood to talk, and that is just fine with me, because I just need you to listen. Your miscarriage was not a punishment. It was not a vindictive act from the heavens. Whatever you did that you think earned you this tragedy was not worth this. Not keeping your cabin out of the war, not being the bully, not talking about your students. You are a daughter of Ares; so much is expected of you, like children of Athena are know-it-alls and the children of Apollo might as well being living in a musical and the children of Hermes do ridiculously annoying and stupid things. You are no worse than any of your siblings or anyone at this camp. You are not perfect, but your flaws were not the reason for your miscarriage. This may not be any consolation, but there was no reason, divine or otherwise. It simply happened. And for that, I am sorry."

Maybe I nodded; maybe I stood there like stone, feeling just as cold and lifeless. Mr. D was trying to help, and I appreciated that more than he probably could ever realize. Despite everything he said, he did care about this camp and about us; there's no other explanation for him healing Chris, especially right after the death of his son.

But...hearing him talk like that, sympathetic and concerned, it hurt. Because it reminded me of that day he restored Chris's mind, but I knew that this time, there would be no magical solution.

"Did I ever tell you that you remind me of my wife?"

I blinked and forced myself to look at him. "What?"

"Ariadne. The myths, you know, never did her justice. She's a lot more than the girl with the string and a broken heart. She is brave, and compassionate, and loyal. And she faces every challenge thrown her way." Dropping his voice, he cotinued, "But that doesn't mean she recovers instantly. When Theseus left her behind, it took almost a year for her to overcome the pain of being abandonded. It did not mean she was weak. Feeling pain does not make someone weak. And acting like it is is the quickest path to a shattered mind. Some of the most uncurable insanity is self-inflicted."

I let that settle in. "Thanks, Mr. D."

"You're welcome. Now, go get some rest. You look like you need it."

With that, he turned and left as easily as he had come. And I almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was.

Almost.

Because there was still a package of birth control on the floor.

I walked over to retrieve it, ran my fingers over the small plastic bumps. Funny how little things like white pills and bloodied clumps could change everything.

I was regretting buying it, but not for my own sake. For Chris's. This was his relationship, too, and he'd been so sincere when he said he was willing to start a family, but...I couldn't go through with it. Maybe it wasn't my _fault_ that I had miscarried, but it could have been my body's. I was no medical expert, but I knew enough to fear that I might just not be capable of carrying a child. The odds were unknown, but I didn't want to play them, not when someone else's life was on the line. Besides, I could go my whole life without being a mom; being good with my students was totally different from raising a baby.

Chris, though, he would be a great dad. No question about it. He was easy-going and gentle and level-headed and so many other things I could never be.

I growled in frustration, wondering how much trouble I'd get in if I snuck off to hack some dummies in half. All I wanted was to feel my blade in my hand, some semblence of the control I used to have.

Footsteps alerted me to another presence, so I hastily hid the medication and turned my head. It was the last person I wanted to see.

"Feeling better?" Chris questioned, taking a seat next to me.

"Yeah, a little." I spoke to table; I couldn't look at him. "Shouldn't you be doing something productive?"

"Lunch time. Besides, seeing you is important. Make sure you haven't gone stir crazy."

"Please. I'm way past that point. I swear, if Chiron really keeps me here for the rest of the week, I am going to lose my mind. Honestly, I just want to stab something."

"Not your charming, handsom boyfriend, hopefully."

"No. Just you."

His mouth snapped open in disbelief. "Hey!"

"I'm just kidding. Jeez, you think you'd have gotten used to my sense of humor by now."

"Well, that was especially cold," he protested, pouting.

I rolled my eyes and leaned over to kiss him. "Gods, you're such a girl. Better?"

"A little. But you know, a little more of that couldn't hurt."

Exaggerating a sigh, I did as he requested, a twinge of excitement coursing through me when he kissed back. Soon enough, we were making out, me in his lap and his hands in my hair. Everything seemed back to normal.

Which is of course why I broke from his warm embrace and threw the package of pills on the table. Because logic.

Chris turned from me to the box, then back to me. "When did you get those?" he asked softly.

"Last night."

"Last night?" he repeated. "How-?"

"I snuck off when you were sleeping."

He was quiet for a few moments. "Clarisse, if you didn't want to have a baby, you could have just told me so."

"It's not that," I objected quickly. "It's, it's just...I had this dream, okay? And we had a son. But then, then...he wasn't a kid anymore, just this bloody mess, and I can't...I don't...I'm not ready, okay?"

"That's more than okay," he promised, pulling me close. "Clarisse, we don't have to do anything you're not ready to do."

"You want to be a dad."

"Whenever you're ready to be a mom. I'm not expecting you to bounce back from this like nothing happened. And if you don't want to try any time soon, that's perfectly okay with me."

"You're in this relationship, too."

"But it's your body. And we have a whole lot of time before we settle down to become parents."

"What if I don't want to be a parent?" It was barely above a whisper, but it echoed like a gunshot around the room.

"You don't mean that, Reese. You're just...worried right now. But that dream was just a dream; it didn't mean anything."

"No, but having a miscarriage does. What if I seriously can't have kids, Chris? What if every time we try, this happens?"

"That's not it."

"It could be! You don't know."

"Neither do you."

I just shook my head and muttered, "I'm not even cut out to be a mom, anyway."

"Are you kidding me? You'd be an amazing mom."

"Right, of course. I forgot how having a horrible temper and a love of fighting correlate to being a good parent. Thank you so much for reminding me."

"I'm being serious. Your students-"

"Are fully-functioning children who have been raised by another human being for at least six years. They're not babies."

"You're still good with them," he protested softly. "And if we did become parents, I'd be right by your side to help. You wouldn't be in it alone." He rested his forehead against mine. "I'm not trying to push you into doing anything. This happens whenever you're ready. I just don't want you thinking you wouldn't be a good mom."

"Do I really have to list all the reasons why I think that?"

"No. Because I can tell you right now that they're all wrong. You stood by my side when no one else did; you took care of me for six months even after I had betrayed camp. You are a loving, forgiving, _amazing _human being, and any kid would be lucky to have you as a mom. Just because everyone else believes those children of Ares stereotypes doesn't mean you have to. Please, Reese. Whenever you're ready, you'll be a great mom." He brushed a loose strand of hair from my eyes. "But only when you're ready. It's your call when that happens. Okay?"

"Okay." I rested my head on his chest. "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome." He grinned brightly. "How about we get back to what we were doing before?"

"You want to spend the rest of lunch that way?"

"Please. I want to spend every minute that way."

For the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing that earns me money. Seriously.

Chapter 5

I strolled through camp, head high and eyes trained straight ahead, ignoring the looks shot my way. My week of rest had been shorted to four days; either Chiron had taken pity on me, or he didn't like the hobby of rearranging all the furniture I had adopted. Either way, I was finally back to my regular schedule, and all the murmuring about my absence couldn't faze me.

Upon reaching the arena, I smirked and slowly, silently, made my way inside to observe.

My students were standing dutifully in front of Percy, but their hearts weren't in it. No one's posture was good; at least a quarter of them had the wrong size sword; Andrew was poking the ground with his weapon; Maggie kept making faces whenever Percy looked away. Well, that certainly wouldn't do.

"Warriors!" I barked, marching into view. Over their gasps of surprise and smattering of applause, I continued, "What is this? I'm gone a couple of days and you lose all form? Ridiculous. Disgraceful. C'mon, warriors! Standard formation!"

They hastily arranged themselves tallest to smallest. As they did so, Percy asked, "So Chiron let you go?"

"Thank the gods."

"So...you're okay?"

"I've been okay; Chiron was overreacting. Besides, I've clearly been away too long if they've degenerated so much. Jeez, Percy, could you screw them up even more? We were making such progress."

He mouth snapped open in disbelief, but before he could say anything, Maggie piped up, "Look!"

"Now _those _are my warriors!" I declared proudly, observing the perfect line of children. "That's what I'm talking about. Though some of you are still struggling with picking the right weights. C'mon, back to the rack; I'll show you _one _more time how to choose your sword, but after this, you're on your own."

They jumped at my command, almost knocking one another over in the process. I glanced at Percy. "Why are you still here? Their real teacher is back."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving." Before he did, though, he added, "Welcome back."

I offered a nod in response and went to aid my students. When everyone finally had the right sword, I ordered, "Alright, ten minute warm-up. And I want your full attention on the task at hand, understand? Warm-ups are just as important as anything. Especially when you'll be fighting _me_. So I want everyone on their game. Is that clear?"

"Yes!"

"I can't hear you!"

"YES!"

"That's more like it. So get moving!"

They broke off into pairs and began shadow-sparring, which was meant to reinforce their techniques rather than quicken their action during a battle. Normally, keeping them focused was a challenge, but this time, no one broke eye-contact with their partners or slacked-off in their movements. I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction; damn, they were getting good.

Warm-up over, I boomed, "Standard formation! Time for the real thing. Winner of the match is the one who either disarms their opponent or manages contact that would normally result in a killing blow. Considering how short you little punks are, I'll give you some leeway and include waist in that category."

Not that there was much of a point. They might have been improving, but they were still a long way from being able to take on someone as experienced as me. It wasn't a total atrocity, though, because no one got hurt or burst into tears. A few even lasted longer than a minute; Maggie held out the longest at three, an accomplishment that planted a giant grin on her face.

"I did good, Clarisse?" she asked once class was dismissed and the others had left.

"You did great," I promised, resting a hand on her head. "Really improving."

"Good!" She looked at the ground, then back up at me. "You think, you think Dad'll claim me soon?"

I blinked and tried to figure out how to answer that. "I'm sure your godly parent will claim you soon."

"_Our _godly parent," she corrected me. "My dad is Ares."

"Did your mom tell you that?" Gods, on rare occasions, told their mortal lovers their real identities, but Ares sure didn't seem the type to do that. He didn't even seem the type to say goodbye.

"No. But it's gotta be him. I don't fit anywhere else. And I'm tired of being in the Hermes cabin. All the kids are annoying."

"All of them?"

She seemed to catch herself. "Not Chris. He's fine. But everyone else. 'Specially the Stoll brothers. They think they're funny, but they're just stupid. I wanna be with kids like me." Biting her lower lip, she added, "I wanna be with you."

Well, this took a turn.

I knelt to her height. "What?"

"You treat me like a grown-up," she stated. "Not a little kid. And you train me like you act'lly think I'm gonna be a real warrior. All the other classes, they, they do basics. _Below_ basics. And it's boring. And, and you're nice to me. You don't say I'm mean. Or bad. Or, or..."

"Who tells you that stuff?" I demanded, suddenly defensive.

"Kids! Lots of them. And, and I just wanna be with you."

"Listen to me, Maggie. I can't promise that you're a daughter of Ares. But you will _always_ have me, okay?" I cupped her chin in my hand to maintain eye contact. "Okay, warrior?"

"Okay!" she shouted, straightening her back.

"Now let's get going. Where are you off to?"

"Archery."

"Alright, I'll walk you there."

Bad plan.

We were literally ten feet from the range when Drew slammed into Maggie and sent her tumbling to the ground.

"Watch where you're going!" Drew barked, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Uh, gods, you little rugrats are so annoying."

"What the Hades is your problem?" I snarled, extending a hand to Maggie. "You don't run this place."

Fake eyebrows rose, practically merging with her hair line. "And where have you been, Clarisse? The camp had been so peaceful without you. And it smelled a lot nicer, too."

"Does it matter, Barbie? I had crap going on."

"Oh, did you? What, did the she-beast finally caught rabies?"

"You shut up, you big meanie!" Maggie kicked her dead-center in the shin.

Fury crossed her features, and she raised her hand, like she was about to backhand the eight-year-old.

I caught her wrist and gripped it tightly. "You do _not _touch my kid," I hissed.

"Your kid?" Drew repeated with a sneer.

"My student," I amended, too little too late. "You don't touch one of my students."

"What, you actually care about them?" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. "The big bad Clarisse? Please. You're not even fit to breed."

And that's when my fist was plowing into the side of her head, again and again and again. I've been in plenty of fights before, and I've had a good amount with Drew, but never like this. Because the restraints when I fought other people were gone and I was swinging and kicking and clawing like I did when I had to take on a monster bare-handed and the feeling of her blood on my hands was one of the best in the world.

According to Annabeth, I only spent about ten seconds beating the crap out of Drew before she and three of her siblings managed to drag me off of her. It felt like forever. And the damage I'd managed to inflict in that short amount of time was pretty bad, even for me.

It was chaos for the next couple of minutes as we waited for Chiron. Drew was screaming and crying, Annabeth was struggling to keep her somewhat composed, Malcolm was asking me what had happened, Maggie was vehemently defending me, and a handful of other campers were gaping at the scene. Me, though, I just sat there, cool as anything, watching the blood dribble off my fingers.

Chiron was stone-faced when he reached us. "Both of you. Big House. Right now."

I obeyed without a word of protest. Sniffling loudly, Drew followed, too, exaggerating a limp even though I never touched her leg.

"I want to know exactly what happened," he stated, not even waiting for us to sit down. "This instant."

"She just attacked!" Drew whined. "Out of nowhere! I can't even _believe _I am here right now! I should be in the infirmary getting this damage-"

"She told me I wasn't fit to breed," I interrupted quietly.

Chiron's mouth opened, just the slightest bit, and closed immediately. "Drew, you're on stable duties for a week. You start tonight."

"Are you kidding me?" she shrieked, throwing her arms out in protest. "Do you see what she did to me? I am the victim!"

"Go to the infirmary and then to your schedule right now or that week gets extended to two," Chiron informed her coldly. "This is not negotiable."

Her face twitched in an almost-catlike manner, and she stormed away.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, broken by one of his sad sighs. "Clarisse..."

"What's my punishment?" I asked, looking past him.

"Considering the...extenuating circumstances, perhaps I could overlook this," he murmured.

I shook my head. "That's suspicious. Way too suspicious. I almost bashed her face in, Chiron. You can't let me off."

He titled his head slightly, like he was trying to read me. "A week of kitchen duty," he offered.

"Fine." I turned to leave.

"You shouldn't take what she said to heart," he stated softly.

"Yeah, I know," I countered, but my voice sounded choked and small, so I hurried out of there before anything else could be exchanged.

Word of my freak-out spread like Greek fire around the camp; by dinner, everyone was talking about it. Not that I cared. Because all I could hear was, "You're not even fit to breed."

"Clarisse?" Chris's voice broke through. "Clarisse, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." I turned away from my food, most of which had been smeared around my plate in an attempt to convince others I'd been eating.

"For real, Clarisse, are you okay? It's been going around that-"

"I beat Drew to a pulp? Yeah, that happened. You should get back to your table, before you get in trouble."

"Please, talk to me. What'd she say to set you off?"

"How do you know she said anything? Maybe I just felt like punching someone."

"This is me, Clarisse." He was whispering in my ear so my siblings couldn't eavesdrop, a precaution he didn't have to take. "Please, what happened?"

I stabbed at something on my plate and forced myself to repeat the trigger.

Calmly, oh-so-calmly, Chris stood, walked over to the Aphrodite table, and shoved Drew's face into her soup.

That's how we both ended up on dish duty.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," I told him, slipping the gloves onto my hands. "I had it."

"You're my girlfriend, Reese. I'd like to think I'm capable of defending you."

"I didn't need defending."

"Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted to hurt her."

"You're starting to sound like me."

"It's true."

I stopped mid-task. Chris never talked like that. He was the calm one, the collected one. "Don't say that."

"It's true," he protested. "It's true because that bitch has no right to say anything like that to you."

"She was just being Drew. It didn't mean anything." I was quiet for a moment. "It's not like she knew."

"Whatever," he grumbled.

"Chris, I'm fine."

"If you were fine, you wouldn't have attacked her that way. It hurt you."

"Yeah, okay, it hurt. It hurt like Hades. But they're just words, Chris. I'm a big girl, and I can bounce back from this."

He threw a dish into the sink. "Why do you have to be so stubborn about this?" he demanded. "Why can't you just talk to me about this?"

"I do talk to you!"

"Only so much. Let me know what's going on, Clarisse. I don't want to be shut out."

"I'm not shutting you out!"

"Oh, really? That's why we've talked about anything _but _the miscarriage in the last two days. You're still upset, but I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on with you! You need to talk to me!"

I slammed a plate into the sink; it caught on the edge and shattered. "You want me to talk? Fine. I still have nightmares every night about losing our child and I offered half a plate of my dinner to the gods as though that would make a difference and I keep imaging what he would have turned out to be even though he's _dead_. Is that enough talking for you, Chris? You know enough now?"

I shoved my hands back into the lava and refused to look at my boyfriend.

"Clarisse..."

"Please, Chris, I don't want to talk. Okay?"

He didn't press the issue. We worked in silence.

When our chore was completed, I got out of there without looking back, hoping just to retreat to my cabin. But Chris had other ideas.

He caught me around the waist and turned me around, hugged me against his chest, and kissed every inch of my face. And I entwined my fingers in his t-shirt and allowed myself to go limp in his arms and stopped fighting to keep him out.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Just a warning: next chapter won't probably be until two weeks. The 30th to the 4th, I have something every day. So yeah.

Disclaimer: Stupid question.

Chapter 6

Chris and I stayed that way for hours, long past the campfire and even lights out, until I forced myself to say, "We should probably be getting back."

He nodded, reluctantly releasing me. "I love you," he whispered, one last kiss to my forehead.

"I love you, too," I managed, fighting every urge to bury my head in his chest and plead for him not to let me go. Still reeling from my loss or not, I was a daughter of war, and that carried with it a certain code of conduct, one I had spent too long learning to abandon.

Assuming that my siblings would have been asleep, I took care to enter my cabin as silently as possibly. Turns out, there was no need. Every single one of them was sitting in bed, eyes trained on the door.

They'd been waiting for me.

I quickly plastered a scowl on my face and demanded, "What are you all doing? Get to sleep."

"We want to talk, Clarisse," Mark murmured quietly. "We need to talk."

With a roll of my eyes, I walked to my bunk, taking care to give Mark a forceful shove as I passed. I was getting real sick of people wanting to talk to me. "There's nothing to talk about. Now, get to sleep. That's an order."

"You've been go four days," Sherman pointed out. "You've..."

I whirled around. "I've _what_?" I demanded, hoping he would get the hint to let the matter drop.

Thing about Sherman, though, was that as tough as he was and as annoying as he could be, he was probably the most sensitive of all my brothers. He hid it well, and I doubt anyone but me and maybe Mark realized it, but he was a major marshmallow underneath. After our youngest siblings were asleep, he was the one who would tuck them in; when someone got sick or injured, he was the one who helped them to the infirmary; and when some stupid birds flew into the windows, he was the one who nursed them back to health. So really, it came to little surprise when he just met my glare and whispered, "You've lost a baby."

I winced at the word _baby_; it sounded so much more delicate, so much more _real_, coming from him. Realizing that they had all seen the movement, I straightened my back and snapped, "Fine. You won't let this matter go, I'll talk. It sucks. It sucks more than anything I could've imagined. Because, surprise, apparently I wanted to be a mom. But none of that matters. All that matters is that I am still your cabin leader, so my word is final. That means all of you better be asleep in the next five minutes or I'm adding an extra five-mile run for the next month. Do I make myself clear?"

There were grumbles of acknowledgement, plus a quieter, not quite meant for me, "We're just trying to help."

I almost answered that, but instead I crawled into bed and dragged the covers over my face. As children of Ares, we didn't show how much we cared about each other, even though we were all close. We were expected-by the camp, by our dad, by ourselves-to be strong and impenetrable, and we didn't dare shatter that image. Even after the Second Titan War, we only shed a few tears for our fallen and spent a few restless nights avoiding sleep for fear of nightmares. I didn't want them pitying me, not only for my sake but for theirs, because when you finally let yourself start feeling after years of being numb, the waves of emotions were damn near strong enough to drown you.

Just when I was convinced everyone had fallen asleep, I felt someone take a seat beside me. I peaked my head out to see my sister, Aria.

"What do you want?" I muttered.

"What do you think I want?"

"The matter is dropped."

She snorted. "Please. You're telling me exactly what's going on right now."

"What's going on? I want to get some sleep but someone won't let me."

Catching my arm, she tugged me in a sitting position. Even though I could have tossed her to the floor, I refrained. Besides Chris, she was my best friend.

"C'mon, Clarisse, this is me. So spill."

"I'm fine."

"Bull. You're upset."

"I'm fine."

"The only ever time you use the word _fine_ is when everything is going straight to Hades. You hate that word. So stop with the crap responses and actually answer me." After a moment, she added, "Please. I want to help."

"You know a way to bring my baby back?"

Her shoulders sagged slightly. "I never knew you wanted a kid so much."

"Yeah, well, neither did I until I saw him dribbling down the drain." It would have sounded a lot tougher if my voice hadn't cracked.

"Him?" she repeated quietly. "You know it was a boy?"

"No. But it...it feels right. I don't know, I'm being stupid."

"You are not being stupid," she protested softly. "You're allowed to be upset."

"No, I don't. He wasn't planned."

"Who gives a crap if he was planned or not?"

"I didn't even know I was pregnant."

"That doesn't change anything. You wanted him; you lost him. That gives you every right to grieve."

"I don't want to grieve. I don't want to feel like there's something missing. I don't want to sleep and see blood. I want everything to feel normal." Running my fingers through my hair, I muttered, "I want to be who I was before."

"Who you were before? Clarisse, you are still a badass bitch from Hades who doesn't let anyone screw with her. That hasn't changed. All that's different is that you're hurting. And that's okay." She shifted a little in her seat and continued, "But you'll get through this. There's no doubt about it. Because you are the strongest person I know. You're the first girl to be cabin leader in over a century; you single-handedly beat a Drakon without any armor." She gestured toward the right-hand corner of the room, toward the beds belonging to Kat and Jess, the only two daughters claimed since the war. Barely even audible, she said, "You're the reason they didn't have to go through Initiation. You're so much tougher than you're giving yourself credit for. So allow yourself to hurt, Clarisse. It's okay."

I rested my head against the wall. "Thank you, Aria."

"No problem." She gently squeezed my wrist before jumping down. "I'll see you in the morning."

I lay my head on my pillow, but too much was buzzing in my mind. Especially what she had said about Initiation.

Dad favored sons over daughters, had ever since Hippolyta had proven her weakness by being killed by Hercules. Since then, he'd maken it a point to "put his daughters in their place." The only reason he stopped the practice was because of me; it had been the only reward I wanted after the war.

Absentmindedly, I brushed my thumb over the side of my cheek, near my ear. The small, faded white scar had been from his ring.

Did Dad know what was going on right now? Had he seen me crying? Clinging to Chris like some daughter of Aphrodite? I sat up in bed, knees to my chest. What was he thinking? There was no way he'd approve, no matter the circumstances. It was weakness. A disgrace. And if he saw me in that way...

"Don't," I muttered fiercly. "He won't go back to that. He promised."

_Yeah, when you were his Drakon Slayer. You think he'll keep up his end of the deal if he suddenly sees you as a pathetic girl again?_

I growled quietly and buried my head under the sheets and waited for sleep.

_I jumped onto the bottom bunk and kicked my feet up. Man, did it feel good to belong to a real cabin, to actually have a bed instead of being forced to sleep on the floor._

_ "Hey, punk, show a little respect," Michael, the cabin leader, growled. "You're a newbie. You don't own this place."_

_ "Oh, what, and you do?" I sneered. Even though he was six years my senior, I was feeling too confident to be fazed by him._

_ "I'll kick your ass for that, kid. I don't care how old you are."_

_ I leapt to my feet and spread my arms. "Bring it!"_

_ My siblings-I couldn't believe I could call them _siblings _-watched but made no move to intervene. Our stand-off lasted thrity seconds before Michael chuckled and ruffled my hair. "Spunk. I like that. You'll fit in perfectly."_

_ I beamed up at him but had no time to respond. An Iris message shimmered into view. A huge biker with a crew-cut and sunglasses appeared, deep voice demanding, "Clarisse?"_

_ I blinked in disbelief. "Yeah?"_

_ "Meet me in the woods, by Zeus's Fist, at eleven tonight. Don't be late."_

_ And just like that, he was gone._

_ I tilted my head in confusion and looked arond the room. "Was that, was that Dad?"_

_ "Sure was," Michael murmured, shooting a look at Lyra._

_ "And he wants to see me?" I pumped my fist into the air. "This is the best day ever!"_

_ Until eleven o'clock actually rolled around and I was standing in front of Zeus's Fist practically shaking with excitement. That's when Dad appeared, looming over me, and snarled, "Is this how you appear before a god? Do you have no respect?"_

_ I stared up at him, not understandning. "What?"_

_ He grabbed my chin and jerked my head down. I had to bite back a gasp of pain. "You bow," he explained, voice dripping with contempt. Releasing me, he asked, "You know why I brought you here?"_

_ I shook my head and murmured, "No."_

_ "You know Hippolyta?"_

_ "She was the Amazon queen," I stated proudly. Mom always told me stories about her._

_ "She was a failure," he corrected darkly. "A daughter of mine who managed to get herself killed because she was too stupid to assess her situation." He cracked his knuckles. "See, from her, I learned that girls can't be expected to do what boys can do. You know, fight. Be warriors. Make me proud. So, I figured it's just a lot easier to put them in their place."_

_ Without warning, his fist crashed into the side of my face, and I went sprawling across the ground. Blood dripped from a cut, but I couldn't focus on that, not when his foot was catching me in my stomach._

_ It hurt. It hurt worse than anything else I ever experienced. For the first time in years, I wanted to cry. But I was too scared to do so in front of him, so I just took it, closed my eyes and waited for it to be over._

_ Finally, after what felt like forever, he barked, "Get up."_

_ I obeyed, wincing, swallowing a whimper as my bruised body burned with protest at the movement._

_ Dad grabbed my chin again, this time yanking my head up. Eyebrows furrowing, he ran his fingers down one cheek, then the other. He grunted and muttered, "First." Louder, he continued, "Let this be a lesson, little girl. You are _nothing_, and you will never amount to any more than that. Is that clear?"_

_ "Yes," I whispered._

_ "Good. Now get back to the cabin. And mind your brothers. They're the real children of Ares."_

I awoke with my heart in my throat and stomach churning with unease. I'd never dreamt about my Initiation before; I'd shoved it deep to the back of my mind, remembering only when I needed to push myself harder. To relive it...

Glancing at the clock, I decided that four-thirty was a good enough time to start training. Because I was a daughter of Ares, the first to gain his approval in hundreds of years, the only one to accomplish all the tasks he shot my way, and if I failed, if I gave him any reason to stop believing that girls were as good as boys, we'd be back at square one. So no more crying, no more mourning, no more obsessing over this miscarriage. I couldn't risk it. I couldn't afford it.

Besides, Dad's blood ran in my veins. If he could do that to his kids, who says I couldn't do it to mine.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

So ever since the part in _Sea of Monsters _when Ares and Clarisse have that discussion via Iris messaging, I couldn't get out of my head that something must have caused her to be so afraid of him. That's where Initiation came from, in case you were wondering.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: So, surprise! I got two whole days to study, and today was a crap day, so damn it, I'mma write!

Disclaimer: Please. Jokes, jokes, jokes.

Chapter 7

I don't think I had trained any harder than I did that day, and I was counting all those nights I spent hacking at dummies, trying to forget that Chris was on his death bed in the Infirmary. Adreline was rushing through me, and I almost (_almost_) forgot about the miscarriage. Better still, after the Drew incident, people were keeping their distance; if anyone had wanted to ask where I'd been, they certainly weren't going to do it now.

Of course, it couldn't have been a perfectly uneventful day. No, it was never that easy for a demigod.

Five minutes after class had offically started, Andrew wasn't there. And maybe anyone else would have chalked it up to him being a little kid, but after the first lesson, I had made it perfectly clear that lateness wouldn't be tolerated. Besides, he was one of the most dutiful of my students; this was totally not like him.

"Has anyone seen Andrew?" I asked.

Even though he was unclaimed and should have been on the Hermes cabin schedule, the surge of children after the war, plus the additional of new cabins, had thrown off the old system. Most classes had been shifted to age-based ones, so it was a lot harder to determine who was with who.

Most just shrugged; Kevin offered, "I think he's in arts and crafts."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Alright. I'm going to look around. No killing, maiming, you know the drill. I'll be back soon, so no slacking, either."

Halfway to arts and crafts, I saw him walking my way, head down.

"Andrew!" I called, speading up my pace. "Andrew!"

He looked up and hastly wiped his eyes before straigtening his back, chest out. "I'm sorry, commander, for being late."

"At ease, warrior." Reaching him, I knelt to his height and lifted up his chin. "What happened? You're always early."

His lower lip trembled slightly, and he started blinking furiously. Oh gods, he was going to cry. I couldn't handle cryers. The only, _only_ time had been when Silena had lost Beckendorf, and that was different, so incredibly different.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," I promised. "You can tell me."

Shaking his head, he managed, voice hitching and wavering, "It's just s-something st-stupid."

"If you're this upset, it's not stupid. So lay it on me."

Gulping in air, he managed, "I, I was in crafts, and at the end, this Hermes kid t-told me there, there was something for me in, in a box, and, and, and I should've known, but I, I got excited, so I opened it and this, this red stuff shot out and got all over my painting and I'd spent _three _classes on it and, and I got upset, so, so he t-told me it would wash off, so, so I went to do that after class and it _didn't_, it just made the paper all gross, and he started _laughing _and said I was so st-stupid and that's why I hadn't been c-claimed yet." The tears were streaming down his face by now, and his whole body was shaking.

I shifted uncomfortably and awkwardly wiped his cheeks, swallowing down the rage burning inside because me getting angry would only upset him more. After a brief internal battle, I pulled him into a hug. He latched onto me immediately.

"I'm sorry, Andrew. I know how much work you must have put into that painting. But listen, I know that you're a great artist and you'll do something twice as good." For good measure, I added, "And that kid is just a punk, picking on you. And saying stuff about getting claimed is a low blow. Your godly parent is going to claim you, andd not just because of the thirteen-year-old requirement; because you're an awesome little warrior. So don't let this jerk get to you, okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled, sniffling, but the real crying was over. "Thank you."

"No problem. You okay for class?"

"Yeah."

Maybe he could've bounced back, but his classmates couldn't. They all wanted to know what had happened and all the details, and even though they obeyed by commands, their minds were wondering. Finally, I signaled for them to halt and said, "Okay, I get it, you're curious. Fine. But I'm not saying what happened. If Andrew wants to tell, he can. But it's his decision."

It only took for fourteen sets of eyes to turn on him before he related his story.

Maggie was the first to speak. "Who is this punk?" She pounded her right fist into her left hand. "Let's pulverize him!"

There was a chorus of agreement, but Andrew just timidly murmured, "I don't want to get him in trouble."

With a roll of her eyes, Maggie protested, "This guy has it coming! Right, Clarisse?"

Gods, I hated being the voice of reason.

"Look, I want to beat up this kid as much as any of you, but that's not going to solve anything. If Andrew wants to tell, he can tell, but if he doesn't, he doesn't. I don't want any of you pushing him for information. He has every right to keep it to himself. So let's get back to practice; I'll be fighting you again in a week, and I expect significant improvement."

The issue wasn't spoken of for the rest of class, but I knew there was no way it was going to end there. Dinner came and proved my suspicion right when I saw Maggie with her arm hooked around the neck of Marcus, one of the newest and most annoying additions to the Hermes cabin. Having arrived within the last month and getting claimed in three days, he thought he was the holiest gift to the planet. This sure wasn't helped by him being thirteen and stupid, taking the whole "prankster" thing to a ridiculously level. Even the Stolls had been trying to calm him down, but he just seemed to take that as a challenge. Picking on a nine-year-old was a new low.

Which is why watching Maggie force him to the ground was one of the best moments ever. And it wasn't just me who thought that, considering no one made any attempt to stop it.

"You're just a big jerk!" she shouted. "A big, stupid jerkface!"

He grunted something in reply, probably something I wouldn't want to repeat anyway, but she was working her grip real good, and he was already on his knees, face reddening.

By this point, Chiron realized something was up and quickly pried Maggie off of her opponent. Before he could launch into a lecture, though, the air above her head shimmered, and a spear and boar appeared.

All I could do was smirk. About time.

Noticing the sudden silence and the increased attention, she demanded, "What are you all looking at?"

"Look up," I told her.

She did, and her mouth snapped open. Chiron let her down and declared, "Maggie, daughter of Ares." Under his breath, he murmured, "No surprise there."

"Clarisse, I told you!" she shouted excitedly, the anger at Marcus completely gone, despite the gurgled threats he was tossing her way. "I told you!"

"Yeah, you did," I agreed, ruffling her hair, only vaguely concerned that a good chunk of campers was watching our interaction.

Her enthusiasm didn't wane for the entire night, not through dinner or the campfire or lights out. It was the same excitement that I had felt, that all of us had felt, when we were first dubbed a child of Ares.

And yet, despite being ecstatic to have Maggie join the cabin, a pain nestled into my stomach, the same one that I got every time a sister had been claimed because I knew what was going to happen to her. And even though Initiation had supposedly been banned, I still couldn't shake off that feeling, hadn't even been able to for Jess and Kat, because I had seen too many girls come back with bruises and cuts and tear-stains, all wondering _why _Dad had to be that way. And the worst was not being able to do anything but offer a sliverer of ambrosia and try to reassure them that this was just who he was, had always been, and that it was nothing personal. It was cold comfort, empty words, the ones Lyra had whispered to me that had been whispered to her.

Watching Maggie stare in memorization at her new home, asking question after question, the pain intensified. After the way I'd been acting, Dad might not keep his word (_and he has every right not to because look how pathetic you've been acting_), and I couldn't stand to watch her go through Initiation.

The dreaded Iris message never came. I sent a silent prayer of thanks and drifted off to sleep.

It was a shuffling sound that awoke me; just the shuffling, certainly not the dream of me standing in a bloodied room with the shrieks of a child bouncing back at me.

Slipping out of bed, I got behind Maggie and asked, "Can't sleep?"

She practically jumped a foot before turning to face me. "Clarisse! I, I was, I was just, patrolling, yeah, that's it, keeping the cabin safe."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. C'mon, Maggie, if you couldn't sleep, it's alright. You're in a new place and all. I get it."

"It's not that," she murmured. She kicked at the floor. "I, I get nightmares sometimes."

"Oh." Normal nightmares sucked enough, but for demigods, they could be ten times worse, depending on what they were about. "You got them in the Hermes cabin?"

"Yeah. Chris, Chris would be the one who helped me get back to sleep. He's real nice like that. He's a good boyfriend for you."

I snorted. "Glad to have your approval. But let's get back to the nightmares. Are they the same every time?"

"Mostly," she muttered.

"You want to tell me what they're about?"

Silence. Then, barely audible, "My mom."

"Your mom? Is she getting hurt?"

"No." More silence. "She's hurting me."

My throat seemed to close. "What?"

She looked at the ground, then at me, then back at the ground. "She, she didn't love me. She didn't even _like_ me. She would always say I was a bad mistake, even when I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't _always _bad, honest!"

"I know," I murmured softly. "I know you weren't." I hesitantly brushed flyaway hair from her face, not being able to miss how she flinched. "You said you dreamt of her hurting you. She used to hurt you?"

She clamped her mouth shut.

Sighing softly, I murmured, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want. But if I want to, I'll listen."

After a moment of biting on her lip, she explained, "She used to smack me, when she was angry. Then, then punch. Then kick. And, and I used to be okay with it, I mean, I mean, she'd only do it when I disobeyed or was bad, but then, then she started doing it whenever she felt like it."

"That's why you left?"

She nodded. "It got real bad. I'd miss days of school. Then, then I had this dream telling me about a place far from her. With kids like me. And the next day, after school, I saw this pit bull with red eyes. And it tugged on my jeans and I figured, I figured I should follow him." She played with her sleeve. "Not like I had anything to lose."

My heart twisted. A mother doing this to her own child...

"She was wrong, Maggie," I insisted. "She was so wrong to do that. Alright? You didn't deserve to be hit, not even if you disobeyed. And I know you're still afraid of her-"

"I'm not afraid," she protested hotly. "I'm not."

"Okay, okay. You're not afraid. But my point is, you're safe here. No one will ever do that to you. I promise. We're your family. Your _real_ family. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So try to get some sleep. Early morning tomorrow."

She started for her bed but paused. "In, in the Hermes cabin, I had to share a bed with this one girl 'cause there were so many of us."

And I knew what she was thinking, what she wanted, without her having to say it. And I knew what the right answer was, but what came out of my mouth was, "Now you've got an upgrade. Pretty sweet."

Because letting her crawl into bed with me was not what a strong, battle-hardened cabin leader would do. And I had to be that or risk having her face what she just escaped.

I watched her bury herself under the covers before retreating to my own bed. The last thought running through my mind?

_No wonder you weren't allowed to keep your baby._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Of course not.

Chapter 8

I left the training arena for my cabin, wiping at my forehead. This morning's workout was fifteen minutes shorter than the day's before, which I took as a sign as progress. Forget that the nightmare had lasted longer or that I'd woken up near tears. I was getting better.

Seriously.

Arms wrapped around my waist, and I whipped my arm back to catch them in the throat. Turning, I noticed my boyfriend on the ground.

"Chris! You know not to sneak up on me after I've been working out!" I grabbed him by the hand and jerked him to his feet.

"It's before breakfast," he managed, massaging the wounded flesh. "Didn't know you'd be training this early." He fixed me with a look, like he was reading the contents of my mind and my soul and jeez, he was the only person on this Earth who could make me squirm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I've missed four days, just trying to get caught up."

"Uh ha," he returned, eyes never breaking from mine.

I looked away first.

"Clarisse-"

"I have to get back. I'll talk to you later."

He caught my arm. "Ten minutes until you have to lead your siblings. We have time." His lips pressed gently against my forehead; I'd never admit it out loud, but I liked that as much as making out. "Never got a chance yesterday, not with everything going on."

Seizing the opportunity, I quickly changed topics. "Why did you never tell me that Maggie had nightmares?"

A small shrug. "Not my place. She asked that I didn't, so I didn't. She woke you up?"

"She was pacing."

"That's it?"

"What do you mean, that's it? I'm a sensitive sleeper."

"Not that sensitive." He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. "Something else woke you up."

"No. I'm a light sleeper, alright?"

"You had a nightmare."

"Did not."

"Clarisse, it's me," he protested softly. Gesturing around us, he said, "No one else is around, no one can hear. So please, please just talk to me."

"Nothing, Chris. For real. I'm okay. I haven't had nightmares since getting back to my cabin. Everything's back to normal."

"You suck at lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"I can tell; you _know_ I can tell. So what is going on? Why are you holding back? C'mon, Reese, you know I just want to help."

"There's nothing to help with," I lied softly. "I'm okay now."

"I don't get you. One day, you're fine with telling me what's happening, the next, you're hiding things again." His jaw set. "Someone said something to you? One of your siblings?"

"No one would say anything about this," I protested defensively. "They can be jerks, Chris, but they're not monsters."

"Sorry," he murmured, trying for another kiss, but I just scowled and pulled away. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Reese. I just...I just want to know what's happening. You've put up a wall again."

"I'm a daughter of Ares. I have to be strong."

Too late, I realized exactly what I had said.

His face contorted slightly, upper lip pulling up in a snarl. He was the only person outside of the cabin to know how Dad was. Since Dad hadn't been able to break me during Initiation, he'd taken to watching me closely, jumping at any opportunity to "teach me a lesson." Chris had stumbled across such a scene a few years back, and no matter how much I insist that Dad's gotten better or how it really didn't mean anything, he still despises him. My verbal slip was so not helping the cause.

"Did he say something?" he demanded. "Did he really say something to you after this?"

"He didn't," I promised quickly, lowering my voice. "He's said nothing. But...he's stopped Initiation because of my actions during the war. If I slip up...I don't know if he'll keep that going. But he hasn't said anything. I'm just taking precautions."

"You shouldn't have to take precautions; you should be allowed to mourn."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if I have that luxury, alright?" It sounded a lot harsher than it should have, so I amended, "Please, Chris, let me do this. I have to do this in my own way, for the sake of my sisters."

He sighed again, even louder, but relented, "Fine. Fine. I hate it, but fine."

"Thank you." Camp still empty, I allowed myself to rest my head on his chest. "I'm getting better," I whispered. "I promise, Chris, I'm getting better."

"Okay," he murmured, but I could hear the doubt.

"I have to go. We'll talk later."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You got anything to do tonight?"

"I'll meet you by Zeus's fist, usual time."

Grin spreading across his face, he planted a quick kiss on my neck, right below my ear. Practically skipping out of my range, he teased, "Just a preview for later. Bye, Reese."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop myself from smiling.

And then breakfast came along and the Queen of the Bitches made an appearance.

Meeting me as I was offering some of my meal, she sneered, "Getting rid of most of your food isn't going to make you any skinnier, hon. It really won't make much of a difference; it won't make you any prettier."

"At least I can actually get a boyfriend," I returned evenly, even though I said it through gritted teeth. "And need I remind you of what I can do to your face when you piss me off?"

"Oh, there's the Amazon warrior coming out. How so terribly attractive." Tilting her head, she continued in a deadly voice, "But I know your weakness. And I know that you wouldn't miss camp for just anything. So tell me what happened."

I should have walked away, or punched her, but I couldn't; it felt like I was stuck there, unable to do anything but stare at her.

"Tell me-tell the _whole _camp-why you missed four days." Raising her voice, addressing the other campers, she reiterated, "Tell us why you missed four days."

And from my peripheral vision I saw Chris jumping to his feet and Chiron hurrying over to intervene but it meant nothing because the words were already being dragged out of my mouth despite me fighting so hard to stop them: "I miscarried."

There has never been, and there will never be, a silence so loud and deafening and painful. And I could feel everyone looking at me, their eyes _boring _into me, and I only barely registered the look of disbelief Drew was wearing because I wanted nothing more than to _kill_ her, break every bone in her body twice ad leave her twitching on the floor. Instead, I stormed away, from her and them and everything, breaking into a sprint and making my way to the arena.

I fought with no weapons. Just my hands, clawing and ripping away at the dummies, not caring about the blood seeping from the tender flesh beneath my finger nails. Not that I felt the pain; not that I felt anything.

How long I spent there destroying dummies is beyond me. I probably would have been there all day if someone's voice didn't cut through my jumbled, broken thoughts: "Clarisse."

Looking half-crazed I'm sure, I slowly turned around. Annabeth was standing in the doorway, a respectable distance away.

"What, Princess, you draw the short straw?" I demanded, fingers curling into fists. "You had to be the one who checked on crazy Clarisse?"

"I didn't have to do anything," she protested quietly. "I wanted to. After...I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Look at me. I'm one-hundred percent great. What would ever give you another idea?"

She bit her lip. "I wanted to say I was sorry. About you...you having..."

"Miscarried. Not so smart, are you, Princess?"

"Clarisse, please. I really am sorry that you went through that. And I'm sorry for what Drew did. Not that it probably means anything, but she does genuinely feel bad."

I didn't respond. There really wasn't a response I could give.

"No one will talk about it, if that's what you're worried about. No one would ever do that to you."

"Are we done, or do you still have more to say? Because I have stuff to be doing."

"What, killing inanimate objects?"

"Better than killing the living ones." A sudden realization hit me. "What time is it?"

"What?"

"The time. I have a class to teach."

"It's past that; dinner's in an hour. No one's wanted to disturb you."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You want to help me? Get word out to my students that we're having class now. I don't care what their schedules say; they can't miss a day of swordsmanship."

She opened her mouth, then thought better of whatever she wanted to say and instead started to leave. Before she could, though, I threw out, "Thanks. For checking on me."

"No problem," she returned, and then she was gone.

It took over fifteen minutes, but finally, all my students were before me, assuming standard formation without me even have to say a word. Normally, I would have praised them, but just being with them, seeing the confusion in the way they looked at me, kept me quiet other than orders and instructions. No one pressed me, not even Maggie, and they were the perfect little warriors.

Somehow, that made it worse.

"Alright, warriors, good class. Impressive improvement. And good job accommodating the change. Now hit the showers and get over to dinner."

No one moved. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Finally, Terry stepped forward and asked quietly, "Commander, we, we were wondering...um...today...um...at breakfast..." She glanced around, searching for assistance.

Maggie came to her aid. "What d'you mean, you miscarried?"

My lungs felt constricted and my stomach seemed to drop and for a fleeting second, I almost thought I was going to collapse because _how in the world could I explain this to them_? And they were all waiting, expectantly, that I couldn't just dismiss them.

"You all know where babies come from?"

Some hands shot up; other kids shook their heads.

I covered my face with my hand. "Alright. Alright. So, erm, when, when a guy, and a girl, when they're in love, they have...they decide that they want to become parents. So the girl becomes pregnant."

"How?" Andrew asked.

"Uh...practice. And patience. Anyway, the girl becomes pregnant; the baby grows inside of her."

"_Inside_?" Alicia repeated, making a face.

"Yeah. But...but sometimes, the baby...the baby isn't comfortable in there. It's supposed to stay there for nine months, to grow, but...things happen sometimes, and the baby...the baby dies. That's what a miscarriage is."

Shuffling feet. No one said a word.

I was just about to cough uncomfortably and tell them to get moving when Andrew threw his arms around my stomach and _squeezed_. And then the others followed his move, some tentative, some more bold, until I was in the middle of this massive group hug. And it was nice and comforting and strangely agonizing, because then they were scurrying to dinner and leaving me with a hollowness that made it hard just to walk.

So that night, meeting Chris before the campfire, I allowed him to crush me to his chest, run his fingers through my hair and whisper sweet things, while I just stayed in his arms, trembling from the effort of keeping myself from crying and wondering why this had to hurt so much.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: My books are still waiting to be finished.

Chapter 9

Chris had his arm wrapped around my waist throughout the campfire, and I was too upset to shake him off. Annabeth's promise proved correct, but just because no one said a word didn't mean they would simply ignore the situation. People kept looking at me, and not the subtle kind either; the straight-up, don't even care, eyes glued to the target for a solid five seconds before finally turning away, look. The more I tried to ignore them, the more conscious I became. Mid-way through "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa," I said to Chris, "Can we go? Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'course. Back to your cabin?"

"Yeah."

We stood and left; to preserve my image, Chris didn't take my hand in his until we were out of their range of sight. "You want me to stay with you?" he asked me.

"Please."

He kissed my temple and whispered, "Anything you want."

We ended up on my bed, my head on his stomach, not speaking for the longest time. There was nothing he could say to me, and no way I could try to express myself to him.

Finally, he murmured, "I know you're upset that the camp knows, but they're not going to do anything about it. They would never bring this up, especially after how your siblings reacted. Did they tell you what they did?"

I shook my head.

"Well, Maggie tried to charge Drew-Chiron intercepted her before she could-but Aria took the opening and practically threw her into the wall. And the rest probably would have torn her apart if the Athena kids didn't cut them off; and I'm pretty sure they only did that so your siblings wouldn't get in trouble, not because they wanted to help Drew. Seriously, no one would even look at Drew for the rest of the day, not even the other Aphrodite kids." Lips to my neck, he continued, "This is such a big deal, Clarisse; no one will ever bring this up."

"I know," I muttered, tightening my hold on him. "It just sucks."

"I'm sorry." He ran his hand gently up and down my back. "I'm so sorry,_ cariño_."

Bilingual though he was, Chris never called me Spanish pet names on my insistence that they were too sappy. Only when we were alone and I was at my breaking point did he call me _sweetheart_ in his ancestor's tongue. There was something so tender about it, as though it was expressing more than English ever could.

Normally, just that one word was enough to satisfy me, speak to how much he truly loved me. Now, though, feeling so empty, I quietly pleaded, praying that Dad wasn't watching, "Say more. Please, Chris, speak to me in Spanish."

He didn't question me._ "____Te amo__," _he purred in my ear_. "____No quiero vivir sin ti. __Eres la chica más bonita del mundo. Te necesito más que el aire que respiramos. Tú eres el amor de mi vida._"

Years of middle school Spanish paid off enough so that I understood what he was saying. And the sincerity in his voice and the gentle kisses he was leaving all over my face left me swallowing back my tears.

"Clarisse? Clarisse, what's wrong?"

I just shook my head, knowing that if I spoke, I'd lose it. Besides, what was I supposed to say to him? That I needed him more than anything but suddenly felt like something was missing? That all those pretty words made me miss my baby even more because there was so much _love _in them? That I wanted nothing more than to forget I had been pregnant, even though I _hated _myself for thinking that way?

I couldn't say those out loud. As thoughts, they were harmless; as words, they were real. And if they were real that meant I was nothing but a weak girl who couldn't handle her emotions and wasn't fit to lead the Ares cabin and would have to watch her sisters suffer because of her inferiorty. I'd be the next Hippolyta, all the proof Dad needed that his daughters were second-best.

"Clarisse, talk to me. Please, Clarisse."

"I'm fine," I lied, even as my voice shook. "Really, Chris, I'm fine."

"No, you're not." He brushed loose hair from my eyes. "You're forcing yourself to be strong."

"I _am_ strong," I snarled.

"That's not what I meant," he amended quickly. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Whatever."

"Don't do this," he protested. "C'mon, Clarisse, this is _me_. We're going through this together, remember? Stop doing this to yourself. It's not healthy."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Acting like this doesn't hurt! Acting like you can handle this all on your own."

"I can!"

"You can't. This is not just something you can handle by yourself. You think you have to be strong-"

"I don't think; I _know_." I wormed from his grasp and got to my feet, anger suddenly coursing through my body, and I welcomed it because it was an emotion I understood. "I'm the one who got the crap beaten out of me for almost twenty minutes during Initiation; I'm the one who took three other punishments for being weak; I'm the one who had to watch sister after sister come back wondering why they weren't good enough; I'm the one who had to sink to my knees and listen to my own father tell me I was pathetic and worthless and then _grovel _for mercy. So don't tell _me_ what I think. Because this might've been your baby, but this isn't your cabin; this isn't your life. And I can't risk pissing him off. Because our baby is dead but my sisters aren't. So stop telling me it's okay to feel this way because it's _not_."

I was shaking and my chest was heaving and my face was burning and my vision was glossy and I wanted everything just to stop, for everything to go back to normal for just one gods-damned second.

Hesitantly, Chris stood and tried to approach me. Shaking my head, I pointed to the door. "Get out."

"Clarisse, please, don't do this."

"Get out."

"No. I'm not leaving you."

"Get out of my cabin!" I growled. "Leave me alone!"

He stayed stoic and took another step closer. "I'm not leaving you like this, not when you're so upset."

"I'm not upset; I'm pissed off. Now leave me alone!"

_Please stay. Please don't leave; I don't mean it. Please, please don't go. I need you, Chris. I need you so fricking much. I don't mean it, please don't go._

We stared at one another for a few moments, a silent battle of wills, before he turned and left.

My stomach twisted painfully. Swallowing a shout of rage, I rammed my fist into the frame of the bed. The wood splintered slightly, but not nearly as much as my fingers. That ache, though, was something I could deal with, because I'd taken enough physical pain throughout the years to learn how to control it.

Pressing my hands to my forehead, trying to get a handle on the situation, I took a broken breath and decided that sleep was the best option. Stripping off my clothes, I slipped into sweats and crawled into bed, head burrowed under my pillow.

_I was holding a baby in my arms, a little newborn wrapped in a bright blue blanket. His eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful, but there was something wrong, I can just sense it. I gently placed a finger to his nose, then his cheek. No movement, not even a flickering of his eyelids._

_ "Wake up," I pleaded. "Please, wake up."_

_ I slipped my hand underneath the fuzzy cotton. No heartbeat._

_ "No, no, no," I whispered. "No, c'mon, you have to wake up."_

_ His eyes snapped up, but before I could release a sigh of relief, he started screaming, face growing redder and redder, until the skin was melting off the bone so I was left with just a skeleton._

_ I threw the bones to the floor and stumbled backwards, still clutching the blanket in my hands._

_ "Look what you did."_

_ Chris was staring at me, disgusted. Gesturing to the remains, he sneered, "Look what you did to our son."_

_ "I didn't. I didn't, Chris, you know I would never do this."_

_ "Please. Like father, like daughter. You always wanted to be like him, right? Well, now you've become him. Congratulations."_

_ "I'm not like him! Chris, I would never hurt our baby."_

_ "You've spent your whole life trying to please him; you've wanted nothing more than to be his perfect little warrior. Well, now you are. Way to go, Clarisse."_

_ "Please, Chris, please don't do this."_

_ "Do what? You're the one who killed our baby."_

_ And with that, he was gone._

_ "No! No, Chris, please, please don't! I'm sorry! I didn't, I didn't do it on purpose! Please, please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"_

"Clarisse, wake up. You gotta wake up."

I sat straight up in bed, almost slamming my head on the roof. Blinking in the darkness, I saw Sherman next to me.

"You were having a nightmare," he whispered. "You were crying out."

"I was what?" I did a cursory glance around the cabin; no one else was moving. "Did anyone else wake up?"

"No. I was already awake." He tentatively placed an arm around my shoulder. I accepted. "You doing okay?"

"Do you think I'm doing okay?"

"You know what I mean, Clarisse. You and Chris alright?"

"Of course we are," I spat.

"You were calling his name. You were apologizing."

I scowled and tried to pull from his grasp. He refused to release me.

"Look, I know you're hurting. We all know that. And we know you don't want to talk about it. But you can't just go along as though nothing happened."

"I'm fine," I grumbled.

"Yeah, okay, that's why you're having nightmares."

"Get the Hades off my bed."

"No."

"I'm your cabin leader. It's an order."

"Well, I'm your older brother."

"By a _month_."

"You spend every second trying to take care of us; can't you for once let someone take care of you?"

"I don't need anyone to take care of me. You want to take care of someone? Look out for Maggie. She'll probably be having a nightmare soon."

"Already did. Just got her to sleep before I heard you."

"Well aren't you just the ideal den mother? You want a golden sticker?"

"Go ahead and insult me, Clarisse. I don't care. But I'm not leaving. Not when you're this upset."

"I'm not upset! I'm a human being and I have nightmares sometimes. Geez, it's not the end of the fricking world."

"You lost-"

I elbowed him in the ribs and shoved him across the mattress. "Don't. Say. It," I hissed.

Instead of retreating, he returned to his spot. "Alright. Fine. I won't say it. But that doesn't make it go away. And you can beat the crap out of me all you want, but you're my leader and my sister, so I'm not going to leave you."

"Why do you have to be such a sap?"

"Because no one else in this cabin is willing to take that role, and we have to have one representative." His arm found my shoulders again. "So please, Clarisse, let me help you."

I inhaled deeply through my nose and rolled my eyes. "How do you plan on helping me, exactly?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Just...by being here?"

"Really? That's your big solution? Gee, Sherman, you're such a help."

A grunt of annoyance and he was starting to climb off. "Whatever."

"Wait." I caught his upper arm. "Wait, Sherman, I didn't mean that. I...I appreciate you trying to help me. And...and..."

"I know," he murmured, sitting next to me once more. "It's okay."

I lay back down, and he tenderly draped the blanket over me. When I woke in the morning, he was still with me, sleeping sitting up, head resting against the wall.

Nudging him into consciousness, I murmured, "Thank you."

He just grinned and hopped down. "No problem, Clarisse."

Feeling better, I resolved to work it out with Chris. At breakfast, I kept my eyes on the Hermes cabin, but I never saw my boyfriend. As I stood to ask Travis, though, I was blocked by Drew, usual sneer gone and eyes downcast.

"Clarisse?"

I crossed my arms over my chest; behind me, I could feel the glares of my siblings directed her way, and the typical chatter of camp dwindled.

"What?"

"Look, um...yesterday...was bad."

"You don't say?"

"I...I...ugh, I didn't know, okay?"

"Yeah, that was the point."

"I...I'm...you know. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, whatever, Barbie."

I started walking past her. In a softer voice, she quickly added, "And I'm sorry you went through that."

It caught me by surprise, to hear her genuinely mean something. Shaking it off, I muttered, "Thanks," and continued on my mission.

Travis leaned back in his seat and pursed his lips. "Chris? I don't know. He wasn't here when we woke up. Left a note. What'd it say?"

"Had to do something important," Connor offered.

"Yeah, that. Dunno what it could be; hasn't mentioned it. Actually, I was going to ask you; figured you'd be the one to know. He really didn't say anything to you?"

"Nothing."

"Huh. Aw, well, it's probably nothing."

"Yeah. Yeah, right. Thanks."

I returned to my table. Too anxious to eat, I offered my plate to the gods: half for my son, half for Chris.

The rest of the day was uneventful, up until time for class. That's when, upon hearing the door shut with a stronger bang than usual, I turned around.

Standing there, arms over his chest, was my father.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Surprise!

Disclaimer: Duh.

Chapter 10

My sword almost fell from my grasp, and I forgot how to breathe. The only time Dad had stepped foot on camp territory was for Initiation.

"Dad," I said, bowing low, hoping my form was perfect. "What brings you here?"

"You," he stated, no emotion behind his voice. He started to walk toward me, his boots landing heavily with each step. Remembering how they felt against my ribs, I forced myself to stay strong as I straightened up and met his eyes, glowing behind the sunglasses. "And your miscarriage."

Just like that. No beating around the bush. No attempt to lead into the topic. No sympathy.

I stared at the ground, heart in my throat. "You heard?"

"Your offerings. Not that any were actually addressed to me."

"I'm sorry," I managed. "I didn't want you to worry."

"More like you didn't want me to know."

In one simple sentence, he reduced me from Drakon Slayer to cowering daughter. Even after everything, he still held so much power over me.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. Bracing myself, I continued, "But if you've known, then why are you here now? Have I done something to displease you?"

"No."

"Have I slacked on my duties as cabin leader?"

"No."

"Have-?"

"I already told you why I'm here. I came for you." Snorting, he amended, "If we want to get technical, I came because of your boyfriend."

My head shot up. "Chris? What did he do?"

"He came all the way to the _Intrepid_ in the middle of the night. Fought a horde of my vultures just to get inside. And do you know what he did when he got inside?"

"Something I'm going to have to beat him up for?"

"He called me a coward. And a bastard. And some things in Spanish that I'm still not entirely sure of. Point is, he got my attention."

I shifted from foot to foot. "So what happened?" I finally asked, even though I really didn't want to know.

"I confronted the punk, of course. Could've just struck him down, but I figured I'd get more satisfaction beating him to a bloody pulp." Fingers dancing on his knife, he muttered darkly, "The nerve, calling me out. And at my temple. Never thought I could find someone I hated more than Jackson, but that traitor son of Hermes has done the trick."

"He's not..." I swallowed back the rest of my defense. Now was not the time to be getting on Dad's bad side. "Did you get into a fight?"

"I wanted to, but he just wanted to _talk_." It was impossible to miss the disgust in his voice. "Said he couldn't care less what I did to him as long as I listened. And I figured, if he was willing to come all this way, I might as well hear him out before I crushed him."

"What did he say?"

For the first time, my dad seemed unsure of himself, like he was in a situation he couldn't handle. Removing his blade from its sheath, he became fascinated with its battle-worn handle before explaining, "He told me you were still struggling with the miscarriage. That you were refusing to talk about it because you thought I would be angry. 'She's still afraid of disappointing you. She thinks she has to be perfect for you.' Those were his exact words." He inhaled deeply. "Thing is, he never explained himself real clearly. Said to go talk to you. 'Be a real dad, for once.' Again, his words. Lucky his lips are still attached to his face."

"Where is he? Is he okay?"

Slipping the knife back in place, he crossed his arms again. "I'll talk about him after we talk about you. About what you're afraid of."

I licked my lips anxiously. Knowing that prolonging this would only make it worse, I whispered, "I thought if I dwelled on this, you would see it as weakness and restart Initiation."

If possible, Dad stood even taller, and I might as well have been twelve years old again. "You thought that I'd revoke the reward I had granted you?"

"It's just, it's just that..." I swallowed down the fear. "You started Initiation after Hippolyta failed you. And, and you stopped because I proved to you that your daughters were as good as your sons." Embedding my nails into the palms of my hands, I added, "But I figured, if you could do that to your daughters in the first place, what would really stop you from doing it again? So I thought if I kept acting this way, you'd see me no better than her and you'd have all the reason to continue Initiation."

"You really thought that I would punish your sisters because you lost a child?"

I lowered my head, ashamed. It sounded so stupid when he said it.

"Clarisse. Look at me."

Reluctantly, I obeyed. He had removed his sunglasses, but the explosions and violence behind his eyes had faded to a dull red. "I have never been the perfect father, not even close, but I would never restart Initiation. If nothing else, I'm a man of my word. And I promised you that it would end. You are not responsible for the fate of your sisters." A brief pause. "And you shouldn't feel that you are. You might be the reason I stopped Initiation, but that doesn't mean you'll be the reason I restart it. I will never go back to that. So if you're upset, be upset."

"Thanks, Dad."

An uncomfortable silence. "You really wanted to be a mom, huh?"

"I guess."

"You guess? You've been offering more food than you've been eating in the name of your unborn son. You're not even sure it was a boy."

I flinched at that. He cursed quietly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Clarisse."

"I know," I murmured. "It's just...it's still raw. And calling it a boy...it seems right, I guess. Like, somehow I know I would've had a son if he'd lived."

"You're young, you know. For becoming a parent, anyway."

Part of me wanted to roll my eyes because I'd already fought through a fricking war and demigods didn't live long anyway so being a parent a twenty really wasn't a big deal. But this was still my dad, and I still bore his scars, and, even now, I was still scared of him. "I know," I repeated. "But it still sucks. Whether it was planned or not, I was going to be a mom. And now I'm not and it just...it hurts. I don't get it, either. But when I learned I was having a miscarriage...I learned that I actually wanted a kid."

He nodded, though I couldn't tell if he was doing it from understanding or if he just didn't have a real response. "How did the traitor respond?"

I bristled. "Please don't call him that, Dad. He's my boyfriend."

"You could do better. And besides, he is a traitor; he fought for Luke's army."

"It was a mistake. And he paid for it with his mind."

"If it hadn't been for you, he'd have paid with his life."

"Well, whether you like him or not, we're staying together. And he was amazing through everything. He loves me, and he would do anything to make me happy."

"Yeah, I figured as much when he showed up at the _Intrepid_. Much as I hate to admit, the bastard son of Hermes does seem to care about you."

That was as close to acceptance as I was going to get from him, so I murmured, "Thanks."

"And he really was okay with being a dad?"

"He was excited. He..." I almost mentioned how Chris was willing to try again, but I'm pretty sure Dad would have murdered him for that. "He loves me."

"Okay, well, I still don't like it, but if you really think this punk is the one for you, you get my blessing. _But_ if he does anything to hurt you, I'll rip his still-beating heart out of his chest."

"I would expect nothing less."

He cleared his throat. "Okay, well, if this is it, I'll let you get back to your class." Half-turned, he added, "Remember what I said, alright?"

"Alright."

Only when his hand was on the knob did I recall that Chris was still MIA. "Wait, Dad, what about Chris? Where is he?"

"Let's just say he's giving my horses their exercise for the week."

"You're letting him get chased by fire-breathing horses?"

"Not chased. Not anymore, at any rate. He's probably hiding somewhere now. Don't give me that look; I gave them strict instructions not to kill him. After class, stop by and give the horses the command; they'll listen to you."

I sighed softly. "Okay."

"Good-bye, Clarisse."

"Bye."

He opened the door, and my students hastily backtracked. Dad walked right through the group, only pausing to place a hand on the top of Maggie's head. From the look of awe on her face and the giant smile that never left, he might as well have personally welcomed her to the cabin.

"Did you see, Clarisse?" she gasped when class was over. "Did you see what Dad did?"

"Of course."

"The other parents don't do that, do they?"

"The gods rarely come to camp."

"So, so that was special?"

"Very special," I promised.

"How come he was here talking to you? We tried to come in, but the doors wouldn't open."

"Just cabin stuff. Nothing really important." I ruffled her hair. "Look, I gotta go, okay? Stay with the cabin. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?"

"To save my idiot of a boyfriend."

"Oh. Okay."

Stopping only at the cabin to grab some cash, I made my way to the temple. Two hours later, I was walking into the horse arena, way in the back, where the fiery beasts were contained. Since they didn't like being cooped up, the steel walls were not only fireproof but stretched from roof to floor so to ensure there were no mishaps.

As I slipped in the code, I whistled three short notes before upping an octave. The horses immediately stopped trotting and stared at me.

"Sorry, boys, not today," I told them, taking the time to pet each of their manes. "I'm here for your chew toy. You know where he is?"

The leader, Achilles, snorted and bucked his head. Following the movement, I spotted Chris clinging to the fence, right in the top corner.

"Come down, Chris. We're going back."

He looked down. "Hey, Reese, you're here! Ares talk to you?"

"Yes. And I'll tell you all about it after you get your ass down here."

"But the horses-"

"Will listen to me and won't hurt you. So move it."

With ease and skill, he scaled down, staying close to me as we left the arena. Once we were off the turf, he asked me softly, "So it went well."

"Yeah." I punched him in the upper arm.

"Ouch!" he yelped.

"That was for going behind my back."

"I only did it because-"

I threw my arms around his neck and mashed my lips against his. Speaking through our kiss, I whispered, "And this is for standing up to the fricking god of war in his own temple for me."

He tightened his grip and spun me around. "I would do _anything_ for you. I love you, Reese."

"I love you, too."

And for a fleeting minute, underneath the setting sun, nothing hurt.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything. Duh.

Chapter 11

We returned to camp just before lights out. Chris planted a kiss on my forehead and said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He'd taken two steps when I grabbed his upper arm. "Wait. Could...could you stay the night? Please?"

I was sick of waking up in darkness, trying to blink away the images lurking behind my eyelids. And as great as Sherman was, there's a big difference between your brother looking out for you and your boyfriend holding you in his arms.

He smiled. "Of course I will. What about your siblings?"

"They won't say anything."

That was a fact. Right after Chris was cured, when we first started dating, no one but Aria approved, and even she was hesitant. The boys especially were against it, calling him a traitor and a bunch of other things I shouldn't repeat. I had to beat a few of them down, and a few of them had to interrogate Chris a sword point, but eventually, we came to a general agreement that he was okay. After that, no one said a word, other than to rag on me every once and a while about "acting like an Aphrodite girl." Now, with everything going on, they would respect my decision.

Upon opening the cabin door, all eyes turned my way, and Mark immediately asked, "Where have you been?"

I gestured to Chris. "Had to rescue this one from a horde of angry fire-breathing horses."

Sherman raised an eyebrow. "Dad's horses? You went to his temple?"

Chris just shrugged. "I had some things to discuss with him."

They glanced at each other, but no one pressed for details. And when I we crawled into my bed, they turned their attention and settled into sleep.

"I really appreciate this," I murmured softly into his neck. "Thank you."

"Please, Reese, this is nothing," he insisted, brushing hair from my eyes. "I'd spend every night like this if I could." Slipping his hand up my shirt and trailing his fingers along my back, he purred into my ear, "But I would prefer it if you weren't wearing so much clothing."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it within my own. "No. Way. In. Hades," I whispered. "Don't even think like that, not tonight. My brothers will decapitate you and _then _kill you." Even quieter, I added, "And I don't know how attractive I'll be after my nightmare."

"I always find you attractive," he insisted gently. "No matter what. You are so beautiful, Clarisse." He kissed my lips. "You are amazing."

I felt myself blushing; no matter how many times he told me this, it always left me with this rushed kind of feeling. "Well, point is, you're in a room full of kids who will not hesitate to castrate you should the need arise. You really want to risk it?"

"No," he mumbled, pouting.

I sighed and pressed my nose to his cheek. "But maybe we can do something tomorrow night."

"Really?" he asked, and the enthusiasm was impossible to miss.

"Not so loud!" I objected, elbowing him in the ribs. "But yes."

"Would we be hanging out or, you know, more?"

"We're how old now? You can say the word sex."

He held me tighter. "Would you be ready for that? I mean, after everything that's happened?"

"I'm fine."

"For real, Clarisse. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"I am ready, Chris." Sucking on his pulse point, I purred, "I want this."

He let out a stupid kind of laugh. "Alright. Tomorrow. Zeus's fist?"

"Of course." I lay my head on his chest and closed my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, Reese. Good-night."

No, it wasn't.

_"Mom! Mom! Mom!"_

_ I looked around and saw a young boy running my way, a giant grin on his face. "What's up, punk?" I asked, kneeling as he skidded to a stop before me._

_ "Can we practice swords?" he asked, tugging on my hand. There was a slight lisp to the way he said _swords_, like he was still getting use to the word. "Please, Mom? Please?"_

_ "Of course. C'mon, let's go."_

_ "Yay!" he cheered, pulling me along. "I'm gonna beat you this time, Mom. I know it!"_

_ "Oh, really?" I gave him a small shove, earning a giggle in response. "I can whip your butt."_

_ "Na uh!"_

_ "Lots of confidence for a pipsqueak. Look, I'll make you a deal. You win, you go to bed half an hour later every night for a week. And if I win, you owe me..."_

_ "Owe what? What?!"_

_ "A kiss."_

_ "Okay!"_

_ I ruffled his hair. "Good answer."_

_ We reached the arena, and I steered him toward the rack to help him pick out a good sized sword. From there, we took fighting stances, like we had been doing this for a while._

_ "Okay. On my count. One. Two. Three."_

_ And I barely even swung my sword because this was my son and I would never do anything to hurt him but the blade sliced through his stomach anyway. Blood seeped through his shirt._

_ "Mom," he whimpered, eyes widening and glossing over. "Mom, Mom, it hurts, Mommy, it hurts."_

_ "I'm sorry," I whispered, sword clattering to the ground as I gathered him in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."_

_ My arms grew wet as he grew limp._

_ "No, no, please, not my son, no, not him, it's not fair, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry..."_

"Clarisse? Clarisse, baby, please wake up."

I sat up, gasping for air. Chris was hugging me tightly, covering my face with kisses. "It was a bad dream," he whispered. "Just a dream, Clarisse. It's over and you're okay. It's all okay."

"It's not," I protested, voice raw. "It's not, Chris, I...I..." The words lodged in my throat, and I buried my face in the fabric of his shirt.

"It was a dream," he repeated soothingly. "A nightmare. But it's over now and it can't hurt you."

I just shook my head, but before he could continue to try and comfort me, a small, broken sob cut through the silence. Trying to pull from his grasp, I said, "Maggie's having a nightmare. I have to get her."

"No," Chris protested. He climbed down. "I'll get her, like I did before. You just worry about yourself right now."

I lay back down, arms wrapping around my pillow as though that would be any substitute for Chris, and watched as Chris gently shook Maggie's shoulder. She recoiled from his touch, but, upon realizing who it was, she threw her arms around his neck. With ease, he adapted to the sudden weight and began to walk in a small circle. Wisps of their conversation reached me, but I couldn't hear anything they were actually saying. Not that it mattered. Whatever it was, it was a Hades of a lot better than whatever I would have done.

When Maggie had slipped back into sleep, Chris returned her to her bed and tenderly tucked her in before coming back to me.

"That was amazing," I whispered.

"What?"

"How you dealt with her? That was...I could never do that, Chris."

"Yes, you could."

Tears pricking the back of my eyes, I continued, "No, I couldn't. When she came to me, she wanted to sleep in my bed; she said she had to share a bed in the Hermes cabin. And you know what I did? Not a damn thing. I told her to sleep in her own bed."

"I'm sure it didn't go down like that, Clarisse."

"Might as well have. She needed me and I turned her away. What kind of mom would I ever be, huh? You, you can just become a dad at the drop of a hat-"

"Clarisse, you're over-thinking this."

"No, I'm not! You're dad material. You're great with people. You know exactly the right thing to do. And me? I can't even comfort my own sister." I was crying now, but I couldn't bring myself to care. "I can't do this, Chris. I can't be a mom. I can't do it."

"Don't decide now, please, Reese." He pulled me close. "We're still young; we still have time. So much time. You're going to be the greatest mom one day, but it doesn't have to be right now. Don't put so much pressure on yourself. Don't read into everything. Your students adore you. That should be enough for you."

"I killed him."

"What?"

"Our son. In my dream. I, I was sword fighting with him as practice, but I hit him...I killed our child, Chris, I killed him."

"You didn't. Gods, Reese, you didn't do that."

"Our baby is dead."

"You miscarried. You lost him. You did not kill him." He wiped at the tears. "You didn't kill him, Clarisse, you didn't. For whatever reason, your body just couldn't hold him."

"It doesn't matter how many times you say it, it's not going to change the fact that I was pregnant and now I'm not."

"Clarisse, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He rested his forehead against mine. "But this doesn't make you a bad mom. I know you're scared, and I know you're hurting, but this does not make you a bad mom. The fact that this affects you so much...that just shows how great of a mom you'd be. Because you already loved our son. And maybe you won't say it out loud, but you love your students, too."

"Love isn't enough," I protested hotly. "That doesn't automatically make me a good mom. Because I'm not warm or compassionate or open or _anything _that you are. And how could I put a child through that?"

"Don't do this to yourself," he pleaded.

"I can't help it, Chris."

He rested his chin on my shoulder. "Maybe you need a break. From camp, I mean. Just time away for a little."

"And go where?"

"Phoenix." Tilting my head slightly so we making eye contact, he asked, "You did tell her, right?"

I didn't answer.

"Clarisse-"

"I didn't want her to worry."

"She's your mom; she should know what happened. She would want to know what happened."

He was right; of course he was right. But ever since I started seeing monsters when I was seven, I took care to keep my mom out of the loop as much as possible. She busted her ass working two jobs to support me, so I didn't want to add more to her burden. It took me two weeks to tell her that Silena had died; if Chris hadn't appeared on her turf, I probably would never had told her about him. Just the thought of explaining to her what had happened made me sick to my stomach.

"Please, Clarisse, think it over. You need time to heal, and maybe getting away from camp is the best way to do it. Besides, you haven't been home for nearly two years."

"That's for her own good."

Apparently, monsters that lived in the blistering heat were even more vicious than most, which is why I-and, by extension, my mom-had been under constant attack. It was the main reason I stayed at camp year-round. Even short visits drew attention, and when Chris had been staying there, there were five separate incidents, two of which resulted in Mom getting injured.

"She would want to know. Please, will you at least talk to her?"

I sighed. "Alright. Tomorrow."

"Alright. You okay to get back to sleep?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay. Night, Reese. I love you."

"Love you."

We lay back down. No more than a minute had passed when I whispered, "Would you come with me?"

His lips on my ear. "I thought you would never ask."

The next morning, before anyone else was awake, I snuck off to send an Iris message. Mom answered right away, her eyes wide.

"What's wrong, Clarisse? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Mom, fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you message me once a month, every third Friday. It's the second Thursday. So what's wrong?"

I inhaled deeply through my nose and murmured, "I...I was wondering if I could come home for a little."

"You can always come home." She leaned back a little. "Any reason?"

I looked away. After a moment, I whispered, "Mom, I...I miscarried."

Her mouth opened slightly. "Clarisse...baby girl..."

She hadn't called me that in _years_. A tight, clenching pain gripped me.

"So, so is it okay?"

"Of course. Whenever you can. Whenever you need." She moved her hand, just a bit, as though she wanted to reach out and touch me. "Clarisse-"

If she kept talking, I knew I'd lose it, so I quickly interrupted, "I have to go. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you."

That night, I was on a plane, my boyfriend's hand clenched within my own, wanting and dreading going home.


End file.
